


The Second Circle of Heaven

by liketolaugh



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Age Play, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Autistic Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Bad Parent Amanda (Detroit: Become Human), Bathtub Sex, Blow Jobs, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has PTSD, Consentacles, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Sitting, Facials, Hickies, Impact Play, Incubus Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Kinktober 2020, Knifeplay, M/M, Markus has PTSD, Masturbation, Medical Kink, Military Veteran Connor, Mirror Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Toys, Teasing, Therapist Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Verbal Humiliation, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 55,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26758387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: Connor is 26 years old and two years out of enlistment, with two years of standard Army duty under his belt and another four of Special Forces. Now working as a security guard, he's in therapy for severe PTSD and a lot of guilt issues, but at least he's able to pay for his and Nines' education. (He majors in veterinary technology, and yes, he’s heard a lot of vet vet jokes.)He has nightmares almost every night, until he starts having sex dreams instead.Or: a kinktober 2020 fic heavy on the emotional development.
Relationships: Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 80
Kudos: 122





	1. Bathtub Sex

Connor had nightmares every night.

He supposed that this wasn’t much of a surprise after six years serving in the military, but it had frankly been true even before then. Going into the army, he’d dreamed at least a couple times a week of banging helplessly on locked doors, a tight grip on his arm, his brother shrinking under his mother’s cold anger; coming out, it had been that, and then gunfire and distant roars and howls as well- or not so different ones, sometimes, under his own hands.

Sometimes it was just eyes.

That left him tired enough all on his own, but then he had his job as a security guard, with inconsistent shifts that were often very late at night or sometime in the morning, and classes, preparing for veterinary school.

Some days it was a miracle he even managed to undress before he climbed into bed. Other days he didn’t manage it at all.

This was one of the latter; a double shift and then three classes in a row with barely the time to eat had left him wrung out, and he was dizzy with exhaustion. Connor just locked his door behind him, kicked the fallen leaves off his shoes, forced himself to go through his apartment to check his windows and his fire escape, and then all but tripped into bed, crumpling down on top of it.

For once, he was asleep as soon as he hit the pillow.

And then-

And then he didn’t have a nightmare.

Oh, he dreamed. He was sure of that as soon as he found himself chest deep in a large tub, warm and soothing, with a strong scent of lavender wafting off of it. Nowhere he recognized, no bath products in reach, but it was warm, and it sank into him and made him sigh and lean his weight against the rim.

His surroundings were hazy and indistinct, but Connor found it difficult to care; it was just a dream, after all. And it was so nice.

There was someone else in the tub with him.

It was a beautiful man, with dark skin and short hair and the slightest shadow of facial hair. Two eyes of different colors, blue and green focused on Connor with equal intensity, and an inviting, salacious smirk. Attention traveling lazily downward, Connor’s gaze locked onto the man’s spread legs, and the hard, uncut cock bobbing just barely out of the water.

Warmth started to gather between Connor’s thighs, and without thinking, he slipped his hand underwater and down to his cunt and cupped it, rubbing softly and sending slow sparks of pleasure up into him.

Still, even with that he didn’t realize what kind of dream it was until the other man crawled over to him, slow and deliberate, eyes heavy-lidded and flirtatious, and purred, “Do you want some company tonight, handsome?”

Connor blinked up at him, slow and sleepy, unintimidated by the way he didn’t quite box Connor in against the edge. “Are you offering?”

The man leered at him, leaned so they were almost touching, and murmured, “Explicitly.”

Something about his voice made Connor shiver, and he turned his head to try and catch the man’s mouth clumsily. As soon as their mouths brushed together, it turned into something dreamy and magical, somehow wetter than the bathtub they both lounged in. The man pushed his tongue into Connor’s mouth, and that alone made him shiver and arch, jaw slackening as if to admit him deeper.

The man placed himself between Connor’s legs like he belonged there, cock pressing up Connor’s cunt and brushing against his stomach, and smirked up at Connor for just a second before his mouth latched onto Connor’s collarbone, and his hands rubbed up and down Connor’s waist, and then his knees pushed Connor’s knees further apart and the water was swaying and swirling around them, up and down Connor’s body and he sighed in dreamy pleasure, grasping back with his hands clinging to the warm body in front of him.

It felt like heaven, warm and steamy and pleasant, a breathy laugh against his skin and fingers rubbing into his hips and the soft foreskin rubbing against Connor’s testosterone-engorged clit, making it harden. Connor bucked slightly into the feeling, half a choked moan trying to work itself free from his chest.

“Patience, tiger,” the man chuckled, deep and almost indecent. “Is this your first time?”

“No,” Connor murmured, but his eyes were half-shut and he couldn’t stop himself from squirming as a hand slipped between them and rubbed enticingly at his erect clit, and then, when he hissed, around it in a soothing, erotic circle. _“Uhn._ Like that…”

The man purred at him again, pleased, and Connor shivered. The man’s weight was a heavy, slick thing, seeming lighter in the water than it might have on land, but solid and enticing. Connor spread his legs instinctively, head tipping back against the rim of the tub and a shuddering breath escaping him. His hands scrabbled weakly along the bottom, propping him up.

“Fuck,” Connor hissed, and then the man’s thumb took the place of his fingers and a single one slipped inside, making Connor gasp and stiffen a little. Kicked out at nothing, making a distant splash, and then sighed, “Ohh, more.”

The man mouthed hotly up Connor’s collarbone and then lingered at his throat, and Connor sighed and faltered over another suppressed moan. And _then_ he worked another finger into Connor, rubbing along his inner walls and making him squirm as pleasure built, hips tipping closer to the man on top of him.

“Aren’t you responsive?” the man teased with clear approval, pressing his cock by Connor’s cunt and up into the crease of one thigh. Connor hummed, hips swaying upward subtly.

“Feels good,” he mumbled, and then reached up and pulled the other man close by the shoulders, turning his head again to catch his mouth in a wet, sliding kiss, tongue and teeth and pleasure that dripped down to Connor’s gut. He broke free again and gasped, “Touch me, touch me, touch me…”

The man chuckled, pressed one hand against Connor’s thigh, and leaned down to scrape his teeth over Connor’s nipple, making him arch and moan openly, fingers in his cunt and weight against his stomach and the water swirling and swishing all around them. That thumb swirled around his clit again, and he whimpered.

“Are you slick enough for me, handsome?” the man asked, and Connor nodded quickly, leaning back to give the other as much access as possible.

“Yeah,” he sighed, flushed and aroused and warm, “I’m all wet, want you to fuck me, please.”

“Well, who am I to say no,” the man crooned, and then he was pulling his fingers out and pushing his cock inside Connor, and Connor pushed back and groaned, long and shameless and dazed, feeling it press up into him and spread him out.

_“Ohhh,”_ he mumbled, head lolling and fixing on the man above him, whose eyes were closed for a split second before opening again to smile at Connor slyly.

“You can moan like that all you want, boo,” the man cooed sweetly, and then started to thrust into him, casual and even, and there was something _magical_ about the movement of his hips, about how he always managed to move inside Connor exactly right, and he tipped his head back and whined.

“Yes,” Connor moaned dizzily, thighs involuntarily closing around the other man, just short of trapping him. “Yes, just like that, fuck, fuck.”

Every thrust sent the water splashing up over Connor’s shoulders, warm and still sweet-scented, and he took a deep breath of the lavender air and then leaned up and kissed the dream man hungrily, seeking warmth and movement and whimpering when he eagerly started massaging Connor’s tongue with his again, rubbing his fingers back and forth just above Connor’s clit.

It felt so good, and the man rocked his hips into Connor’s, in and out, massaging him so _perfectly,_ and Connor rolled his hips in return, hungry and wanting, because it was amazing, it was wonderful, it felt so good and he was so close, so close, so close-

“Ohh, gorgeous,” the man moaned, and Connor shuddered and came, whimpering, pleasure rippling through him head to toe in a warm, shivery rush and hips jerking with each burst. The man purred down at him again. “Beautiful, monsieur. Turn over for me, won’t you?”

Connor shivered out just a few more aftershocks, and then turned over, gripped the edge of the tub, and moaned again as the man resumed humping, sending waves of gooey pleasure soaking into his brain.

(Connor woke up that morning, oddly sore but not nearly as tired as usual. When he rolled over and saw the dawn, he realized, slow and befuddled, that it was because he’d gotten a full night of sleep for the first time in… in years.)


	2. Hickies

It wasn’t an activity he frequently engaged in, but over the next few weeks, Connor found himself touching himself to the memory of that dream several times, biting into the crook of his elbow and sinking his fingers into his cunt, thumb rubbing impatiently at his swollen t-dick.

If nothing else, it was a way to occupy himself during the long hours he spent awake, uninterested in studying and bored by the television and all of his books. He still didn’t do it much, but more than once, he found himself picturing that man’s face as he came, muffling moans into his arm in the early hours of the morning.

When was the last time he’d touched himself to anything other than faceless bodies and disembodied fingers and nameless tongues?

Hell, when was the last time he’d touched himself at all?

Though not a virgin, Connor had almost no real sexual experience – just a couple of fumbling, clumsy trysts as a closeted teenager, and later two mortifying, uncertain visits to prostitutes overseas, one of which was before he was certain he was gay.

His relationship with his sex drive had always been complicated; testosterone drove his libido significantly up, but years of closeting made relationships difficult, and recurrent, biting shame made it hard to get off alone. Mostly, he considered the whole thing inconvenient, and tried to ignore any tingle between his legs.

So really, he had no idea where the absolutely mind-blowing sex of that dream had come from. Not that he minded, either, but it was the principle of the matter.

All the same, when he opened his eyes to another misty, hazy dream, and rolled over in bed to see the same beautiful man from before… he found he was very glad to see him, after all.

The man grinned at him, eyes glittering in two different colors.

“Miss me?” he murmured, and Connor barely had time to furrow his brow in confusion before the man leaned forward to press their lips together, deep and hungry, and Connor opened up without reservation.

“Yes,” Connor sighed without thinking, reaching up to hold onto the man’s arms for leverage, leaning up into the kiss. His elbows pressed into the mattress, and he pulled the other over him, so he was braced on top of Connor, straddling him, stomach and thighs pressed together.

The man chuckled against his mouth, and broke away just to nose down, smiling up at Connor even as his lips brushed over Connor’s shoulder. “Aren’t you enthusiastic tonight?” Before Connor could reply, he bit lightly into Connor’s shoulder, hips rolling indolently into Connor’s. “Mm.”

Connor hummed back, feeling pleasant warmth spread through his entire body, inviting and interested. The man’s cock rubbed idly into the crease of Connor’s thigh, and it was all Connor could think about.

“Again,” he demanded, twitching his shoulder, and the man laughed, moved along his collarbone, and bit down again, licking over the mark and making Connor moan softly, spreading his legs to make more room for the other man to settle better between them.

“More of that, gorgeous?” the man asked, smirking up at Connor. “I’ll be more than happy to give you a little extra to remember me by.”

Pointedly, the man rolled his hips again, and Connor hissed and nodded quickly, breath catching as the shaft of his cock slid over Connor’s swelling clit, sparks of pleasure shooting up into his stomach. He squirmed, canting his hips impatiently upward. The man hummed in clear satisfaction.

“I guess you enjoyed yourself last time,” he murmured, and Connor registered another faint ping of puzzlement before it dissolved when the man latched onto his pec and sucked, hard enough to make his breath catch on a mewl. The man purred against his skin. “Oh, perfect. You’re so beautifully sensitive.”

Connor shivered and rocked his hips up, rubbing himself deliberately along the man’s cock, and was rewarded with a moan, surprised and unmistakably pleased.

“God, that’s wonderful,” Connor sighed, enjoying the way liquid heat crept up from his cunt and into his cloudy mind. “I love your mouth.”

“Plenty of people do,” the man purred, and then moved across Connor’s chest to suck another deep hickey into the opposite pec, just above the mastectomy scar, lingering and indulgent. Connor whimpered, feeling a needy ache spread through his cunt. “Enjoy that, handsome?”

Connor nodded absently, hooking his legs over the other man’s to pull him closer and grind on him. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Feels so _good.”_

The man bit into his collarbone again, light and teasing, and Connor squirmed. “Don’t get a lot of that, do you, tiger? You always look like you need a good fuck.” With a deliberate thrust, the man added, half-lidded and leering, “Interested?”

Connor’s head bobbed, quick and sleepy and distant. “Yeah, you fucked me so perfect,” he breathed, hips twitching against the cock pressed along the slit of his cunt now. “I want it, I want you to…”

He started squirming, trying to maneuver himself, but he felt clumsy with sleep and too dreamy to coordinate himself, and the other man helped him along, hiking one leg up and grinding into him one last time to make him moan and arch up into the contact. The man rasped a laugh that dropped into Connor’s ears and warmed his stomach.

“Oh, you’re wonderful,” the man sighed, projecting pleasure, and then guided his cock effortlessly inside of Connor and ground into him, sparking heat and pleasure into his gut, in and out in little, easy rocks that made Connor gasp and whine, shoving his hands into the covers as if for leverage, pushing upward. “Ah… good boy, that’s wonderful…”

 _“Ahhh,”_ Connor groaned involuntarily, the loudest and most wanton he had yet. The dream man’s eyes instantly flashed to his, bright and interested, and a wide, mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Do you like that?” he asked, reaching down to start playing around Connor’s thick clit, head dropping until he was close enough for Connor to feel his breath. “Do you like being called a good boy?”

Connor nodded breathlessly, tightening his legs around the other man’s and bringing his hands up to his hips, holding on just above the curve of his ass. “Yes, yes, please.”

There was something oddly rhythmic about their rocking, but it felt so good that Connor couldn’t bring himself to care enough to think about it, panting and letting the heat rise between them, rapid and breathless and indulgent. The man nipped at Connor’s neck, teeth scraping over the skin, and then sucked, hard and wet, and Connor hissed, high and pleased.

“Good boy,” the man purred into the curve of Connor’s jaw, and Connor whimpered, bucking his hips to rub his clit against the coarse hair at the base of the other’s cock. Fingers rubbed enticingly above it, slow and encouraging. “Are you feeling it, handsome? Are you good and close?”

“Yeah,” Connor choked out, moaning softly as the man sucked another harsh hickey into his collarbone. He twisted weakly under the man’s weight, tugging him closer by the hips, panting. “Fuck yeah. H-harder.”

The man ground into him harder, rubbing sharply against Connor’s inner walls, and Connor’s breath hitched around a moan, legs tightening around the other.

“Uhn, uhn, ah,” Connor gasped, humping back against the cock filling him up, and heard the man hiss, groan, and speed up, rubbing into him eagerly. That was the last of it for Connor, and he whimpered, groaned, and came, shivering in soft jerks around the man’s shaft, insistent and wanton.

“Oh yeah,” the man sighed, and didn’t stop, instead dropped his head to Connor’s chest, right in the hollow of his collarbone, and sucked in another dark hickey.

Connor whined, clenched around him, and kept going.

* * *

When Connor looked into the mirror that morning, shirt off and fresh out of the shower, he noticed a sprinkling of fresh bruises spread over his neck, collarbone, chest, and shoulders.

They didn’t match anything he could think of doing to himself accidentally, even in his perpetually restless sleep. In fact, they looked an awful lot like hickeys.

He stared, confusion and wariness blooming slowly through his chest.

“Goddammit, I hate turtlenecks,” he muttered at last, and deliberately shook off any lingering uneasiness he might feel before turning away to change into some cold-weather clothes and get to the VA. He didn’t really feel like showing up to therapy and having to immediately explain away a fresh coat of bruises.

Simon wouldn’t mind – wouldn’t even make Connor explain if he didn’t want to – but Connor didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. Connor was a confusing and complicated enough client as it was.

Still… if that was the price he paid for a full night of sleep, he thought it was probably worth it. It had been so _long._


	3. Orgasm Denial

It wasn’t until a week later, when Connor was sticking his hand down his jeans, biting his lip against the stimulation of his clit, that it occurred to him that it was odd that he remembered those dreams so vividly.

Connor couldn’t remember the last time he had had a peaceful dream, and his nightmares tended to blend and crash together into a fuzz of fear and pain and grief. He could as easily tell you what he dreamed that afternoon as he could what he’d dreamed the month before, which was to say, not at all.

But these two he remembered vividly – even after fantasizing about them, mixing them together, adding more, he still remembered almost perfectly what he had actually dreamed.

There was just… there was something odd about those dreams.

“Thinking hard or hardly thinking?”

Somehow, it just didn’t seem to matter as much when he was losing himself in mismatched eyes, crinkled at the corners in a smile and so, so close.

It was hard to worry during a dream like this.

“Can you kiss me?” Connor asked without thinking, entranced by the beautiful man leaning over him, and almost instantly his expression softened into something almost like a fond smile.

“Oh, you really are cute,” he sighed, and then his mouth covered Connor’s, gentle and coaxing, a tongue teasing at his lips until Connor opened his mouth, reached up to pull the man closer by the shoulders, and tried to match him motion for motion. The man pulled away only a minute later, and Connor struggled to follow him, held back by a gentle grip. “How bad do you want this, handsome?”

Connor canted his hips up without thinking, hips just brushing the other man’s before he pulled away teasingly. “A lot,” he promised breathlessly. “Do you want me to be good? I can be good.”

The man’s smile widened into a smirk, and he tilted his head, bringing up one hand to cup Connor’s cheek and force his chin up slightly. “Can you?” he purred.

Connor’s breath caught in his chest, and he nodded as much as he dared.

“Can you be patient if I ask?” the man goaded, pressing his mouth to Connor’s throat and licking a hot, languid trail up his pulse. “Like a _good little boy?”_

Connor strangled a gasp, hips twitching up and legs spreading under the other’s weight. “Yes. Yes. Promise.” A hand crept between his thighs, rubbing enticingly over the slit there and thumbing deliberately around his clit, and Connor hummed, tight and wanting, feeling himself slick up rapidly.

The man’s other hand was still cupping Connor’s cheek, keeping his head tilted to meet his mismatched eyes. “Would you like that, if I made you wait?” he asked, teasing and thoughtful.

He stroked directly over Connor’s clit, and Connor whimpered.

“Anything,” Connor promised, squirming and hot, not daring to look away from the other. Fingers slid inside his cunt, spreading him open, and he bit his lip and rocked down against them, encouraging and eager.

A low, soft laugh left the other man, and he circled Connor’s clit and pressed deeper inside, expert and effortless.

“Oh, I like you,” he said fondly, rubbing inside Connor’s cunt absentmindedly. “You really are a very good boy, aren’t you?” Connor whined softly, tipping his hips involuntarily into his grip, and the man grinned. “Could you come just from this, my fingers inside you and me telling you how good you are?”

Connor pressed his cheek into the man’s hand and moaned, quiet and choked, feeling the man speed up noticeably until he was rubbing Connor so _perfectly_ in just the right spots, quick and efficient-

The man added a third, using one knee to nudge Connor’s legs further apart, and crooned, “How much do you enjoy this, handsome, how hard have you worked to deserve it? So hard, baby, I hope you have a good time.”

Connor’s mouth formed around a name he didn’t know, and he bit his lip and rode the man’s fingers the best he could, panting, just starting to shudder as a thumb rubbed a firm circle around his hard t-dick- and then, all at once, the man stopped, hand going still and hips dropping just enough weight that the frantic twitch of Connor’s stopped as well, eyes flying open.

Connor could feel a hard dick pressing against his stomach, and that was just enough to hold him still, nervous pleasure flickering through his gut.

“Why did you…?” he asked, and then faltered, stopping, eyes fixed on the other.

The man pressed one thumb lightly over Connor’s lips and smiled, warm and teasing, so close to his face.

“I did ask if you could be patient,” he murmured, voice lilting oddly.

Connor swallowed, and then nodded, the faint, hot pulse of his cunt starting to calm and fade. “As long as you want,” he promised recklessly. “Just please please don’t stop touching me, it feels so _good.”_ His voice twisted slightly, his head tipping back as the man rubbed firmly into his cunt again.

“Whatever you’d like, sweetheart,” the man crooned, and then, “Would you like it if I ate you out? Got between your legs and licked you until you were close again?”

Connor’s hips jerked, and he nodded, quick and desperate, grip tightening on the man’s shoulders as if to keep him close. “I’d love it, please, please.”

“Do you promise to ask permission before you come?” the man asked, eyes glittering with amusement, bright and pretty and enticing. “I think you’d look very handsome begging to come.”

Connor strangled another whimper, hips rolling onto the fingers still inside him, and nodded again. “Promise.” He was still so _hot_ and it felt _amazing._

He wanted more.

The man kissed him chastely on the lips, and then let go of his head to make his way down Connor’s body. He took his time, dragging his hot mouth over Connor’s collarbone, latching onto a nipple to tease for a bit, dipping his tongue into Connor’s navel. Connor just squirmed and panted, trembling under him.

Then the man settled between his legs, hummed in audible pleasure, and took Connor’s thick clit into his mouth, tonguing over it casually.

 _“Ohhh,”_ Connor groaned, arching against the bedspread, fists clenching into the covers. The man twisted his deft fingers around and sucked lightly, and Connor moaned openly. “Ahh, please!”

A hand rubbed soothingly over Connor’s thigh, deep and firm, but his beautiful mouth didn’t let up, fogging up Connor’s head with warm, tingling pleasure. Connor whined and twisted, scrabbling weakly for leverage as he cried out, almost forgetting his promise as he chased release.

The man’s fingers pressed up into Connor’s g-spot, sending bolts up into his gut, and he whimpered. _“Oh, oh, oh-”_

And then the man pulled away, laughing quietly as Connor squirmed and moaned in protest. “Easy there, tiger. You promised to be good, remember, baby? You promised to be a _good boy_ for me.”

Connor whined softly, and then nodded, forcing himself to still. The pounding arousal took longer to fade this time, and it left him panting.

“Feels good,” he breathed, focusing on the pretty man watching him, intent and warm. “Feels like magic.”

“Is that so,” the man said with amusement, settling his cheek briefly on Connor’s thigh. “You want to come, gorgeous? You want to feel my hot mouth again?”

Connor nodded desperately, and the man grinned at him, then shifted just enough to brush his lips softly over Connor’s achingly hard clit. Connor exhaled harshly, struggling to keep his thighs from tightening around the other’s head as hot breath drifted over his cunt, making his hips twitch with want.

By the fourth time the man pulled away from Connor’s wet cunt, licking his lips, Connor was calling him ‘Angel’ in his head, and he was holding back tears.

“Please let me come,” he begged shamelessly, panting and hot and throbbing with pleasure, damp with sweat. “I’ve been so so good, please, I’ve been so good.”

“But you’re doing so well,” Angel teased, taking his fingers out of Connor’s cunt entirely to lick them, idle and mischievous. “Can’t you hold out a little longer, handsome?”

Connor whined helplessly, but then he nodded, spreading his legs again, eager for stimulation. But Angel just considered him for a moment, cheeks flushed subtly with arousal of his own, and then said, “If you roll over for me, gorgeous, I’ll fill you with something better than fingers.”

Connor was on his stomach before he could think twice, aching clit rubbing hotly against the covers, and he looked over his shoulder hopefully, hair sticking to his forehead.

“Precious,” the angel sighed fondly, and then crawled over to brace himself over Connor, and rubbed the head of his dick teasingly over Connor’s slit. Connor groaned, canting back to try and get it inside, and Angel laughed. “Patience, darling, you’ve been waiting so sweetly, I’m certain you can be good a while longer.”

“Yeah,” Connor breathed, breath hard and hot, feeling a wonderful tingling want in his whole body. He tipped his head to glance back at his heterochromatic angel, unfocused and worn, and he just smiled. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Angel murmured, and pressed slowly inside Connor, spreading him open with a soft, satisfied groan, almost covered up by Connor’s much louder one. “Oh, you feel so soft and snug and perfect inside. Is that enough, handsome, or do you want my fingers too?”

Connor whined, hips rolling to rub his t-dick against the mattress, and shook his head quickly. “So much,” he croaked, grinding eagerly back. “Feels so good, angel.”

“You’re a _sweetheart,”_ the angel laughed, picking up to thrust easily and smoothly into Connor, making him moan and yelp seemingly without effort. “Do you like my cock, gorgeous? Do you like how it fills you up?”

 _“Love_ your cock,” Connor moaned, rocking back to struggle to take more. “Feels amazing, it’s so thick and hard and wonderful, and I, I wanna come on it, fuck I wanna come on your cock.”

“That’s _dirty_ talk,” Angel teased, grinding pointedly into Connor. “Are you close, baby, do I need to pull back again?”

Connor shook his head furiously, hips tipping up and whimpering when it changed the angle just right, sending pleasure gushing up into his chest. “No, no, a little closer, not yet.”

“Ohh, you’re perfect,” Angel sighed happily, speeding up just a touch, and as soon as Connor started whimpering and nodding, quick and desperate, he went still, leaning down to lay kisses on Connor’s shoulder, firm hands stopping his hips from moving on their own. “Once more, what do you say, gorgeous? Do you think you can take once more?”

Connor whined loudly, pathetic and needy, and then nodded.

“Wonderful,” Angel crooned, and then started thrusting again. Connor panted, eyelids flickering as he rocked back into it, shameless and wanton. “Easy, tiger, you’re doing so well. Don’t tell me you’re close again already.”

“Almost,” Connor breathed, pushing back hard onto the dream man’s cock, dazed and helpless against the throbbing lust. He felt sweat trickle down his back, dislodged by his writhing. “Almost, almost, shit, please.”

The angel laughed again, soft and pleased, and then deliberately pushed Connor’s hips down into the mattress, grinding his clit harshly against it. Connor moaned loudly, clenching around his cock, breath coming hard and shallow.

“I wanna come, I wanna come,” Connor panted desperately, tears starting to spill over onto his cheeks. “Please, please, fuck I’ve been good, I’ve been so patient, please.”

Angel ground in one last time and then stopped, and Connor noticed for the first time that he was panting too, cock twitching eagerly in Connor cunt. Connor whimpered, defeated, sticky sweat dripping down his forehead and ribs.

“Soon, baby,” Angel promised, laying a kiss on the back of his neck. “You’re doing amazing, this is the last time, and then I’ll let you come so hard you’ll feel it in the morning.”

Connor made a strangled sound, cunt pulsing with need, feeling the waves of it crash over him from his swollen-stiff clit to his shoulders to his panting mouth. His thighs were sticky with slick, and he couldn’t stop himself from clenching around the other, humming desperately.

“Fuck me,” he begged at last, breath stuttering over his tears, “please fuck me, I need it, shit I need to come.”

“Of course, handsome,” the angel murmured, and then started grinding into him again, deep and hard and purposeful, and Connor moaned. “Want me to touch your little cock?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Connor panted, and then reached up and tugged at one of the other’s hands and put it between his thighs, clumsy and impatient. “Like- like this, please,” and pushed Angel’s fingers into a V on either side of his swollen clit, gasping happily.

The angel hummed, and immediately started rubbing Connor exactly right, making him whimper. “Like this, gorgeous?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Connor gasped, hand loosening on the other’s as his body started pulsing again, liquid and electric-hot. “Oh God, oh fuck, yes, that’s perfect, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, can I, can I please?”

Angel shuddered over him, his hips suddenly slamming into Connor hard enough to make him cry out. “Ask again.”

“Please please can I come?” Connor begged, circling his hips back dazedly, rubbing himself between the angel’s fingers and the angel’s cock, sweat rolling down his back and neck. “Please I need it, I want it, please please can I-”

The angel pinched his clit between his fingers, grinding inside with a groan, and Connor started to wail, convulsing violently as pleasure rampaged through him, from his cunt to his chest, making him jerk and throb and he just had time to feel the angel start to spill inside him before he woke up with a gasp, still coming, his hips jerking and grinding against his splayed palm.

His pajama bottoms were soaked through, and he could hear birds through the window, cold dawn light just starting to spill inside.

For a few seconds, Connor just panted into the silence, and then brought up his hand to stare at it.

“Well,” he said softly, spreading his fingers to watch the light glitter off them. “That was… strange.”

But good. He felt… he felt good.


	4. Face-sitting

“I have to ask the obvious question,” Simon said almost as soon as Connor was done explaining, with a faint, apologetic smile on his face. Connor nodded expectantly, and Simon continued, “When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

Connor shrugged, fiddling with the discrete silicone tag he wore out and around. He chewed on it for a few seconds, considering, and then finally said resignedly, “High school.” Almost all with girls, too. His lesbian phase really had been something.

Not that he’d been able to devote much attention to a relationship at the time. He was generally… well, preoccupied would be the absolute kindest term he could use. Nines had taken up what little time Amanda didn’t those days.

“Connor,” Simon called out gently, and Connor bit down on the chew tag and glanced up, registering that Simon had asked something. Simon prompted, “Has there been a change on that front lately? Someone you’ve been attracted to, or perhaps you’ve just been wishing there was?”

Connor frowned at him. “Are you suggesting I’m having these dreams because I’m horny? Or lonely?”

“That is why most people have wet dreams,” Simon pointed out, wry with amusement. “And you’ve mentioned having trouble with interpersonal relationships in general.”

Connor bit his cheek, uncertain, and then on the chew tag instead when Simon cleared his throat meaningfully. He lingered there for a minute, considering.

It was true. There was Hank, who answered most of his security calls and made small talk while they were handled, and Nines, who called at least once a week, and a few coworkers and classmates he could make passably civil conversation with- but that was it, and Connor hadn’t made much effort to change that.

He certainly hadn’t considered dating. Not as fucked up as he was.

“They’re oddly vivid, though,” he said at last, slowly. “And very… _intense.”_ He hadn’t gone into detail, but he was sure he had mentioned that.

“You’ve led a very intense life,” Simon reassured him. “It’s not uncommon for your sexual desires to reflect that. Perhaps it’s even your mind’s way of coping – you mentioned you slept better than usual on those nights?”

Connor nodded. “Through the night.”

“Then that’s a good thing,” Simon concluded, smiling at him. “If it starts to become disruptive, of course, feel free to bring it up again, but for now, I’d recommend just letting it be. There’s nothing amiss.”

Connor sighed, and finally granted Simon a small smile in return. “Alright.”

He chose not to mention the other abnormalities he’d noticed; he didn’t want to sound paranoid. Or unstable.

“And you don’t need to feel guilty about it,” Simon added, leaning forward to meet Connor’s eyes with a little more seriousness. “You’re not at fault for your body’s natural arousal response, and you’re perfectly entitled to enjoy it as well.” He smiled gently even as Connor glanced uncomfortably away. “Perhaps you’ll want to even consider doing it on purpose more than once in a blue moon. Happiness is not an inherent wrong.”

Connor hummed noncommittally and bit down on the tag without answering. Not right away, at least – he just… needed time, and he knew Simon would let him linger over it for a while.

Nines had been very insistent on Connor going into therapy. Connor was reluctant to closely examine why, but he liked Simon, at least. He was the first therapist who had been patient with Connor – who hadn’t treated him as stupid, or as a woman, or irritatingly stubborn the way Connor knew he was.

The least Connor could do was try to cooperate.

* * *

“Oh no,” Connor said, as soon as he saw his angel lounging on the couch beside him. “I was supposed to be studying.”

None of those materials were here now, though the room was unmistakably a hazy approximation of his living room; he was slumped against the arm, naked and curled up, and the angel was on the opposite end, legs spread casually and his cock still soft even as he covered his mouth to laugh.

“Is it urgent?” Angel managed after a beat, mismatched eyes glittering with amusement.

Connor sighed and pouted a little. “No…” Connor just got… very, very anxious about grades, now more than ever when he was studying on scholarship and towards post-grad, and so close to finals too... But then his distracted mind refocused on the angel, and his thighs warmed enough for him to press them together on instinct. “No.”

Angel smirked at him, like he knew what Connor was thinking, and Connor wavered for just a moment, eyes fixed on the dream man. Spread strong legs and broad chest and _beautiful_ creamy dark skin, a shadow of facial hair Connor could already remember scratching against his inner thigh-

Before he knew it, Connor was crawling towards him, and delight flickered across Angel’s face. The man adjusted to accommodate Connor, and so Connor slid neatly between his knees and kissed him, tentative and clumsy, moving his lips against the angel’s until they indulgently opened up to let him in.

Connor exhaled softly, pressed down a little more, and hummed, then tentatively tried to shift the angle a little bit, wincing at the bump of noses, and licked into the other’s mouth, shivering as he laved against another hot tongue.

Seemingly more than content to let him try his hand, the angel hummed back, and then sucked lightly on Connor’s tongue in a way that made him hiss, squirming to press closer. Hands rubbed into Connor’s ass, massaging it, and Connor moaned softly, rocking forward.

When Connor finally pulled away, only panting a little, the angel licked his lips and grinned at him playfully. “I think you might be a bottom, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” Connor sighed, without actually denying it. He settled himself firmly on the angel’s thigh, hips swaying just a little to push his slickening sex against him, and he bit his lip, and then asked, “Can I…?”

He faltered, but the angel’s eyes lit up with warmth and amusement, and he took one of Connor’s hands and led it to wrap around his own slowly hardening cock.

Connor hesitated, most of his attention going to the cock in his hand, and after a moment, he pumped it, slow and uncertain. Angel chuckled softly, and then his hand closed around Connor’s, tightened his grip a little, and guided him up and back down.

“Not a lot of practice?” he asked gently.

“Not with cocks,” Connor muttered, watching it for what felt like the first time. Stroked it up and down again, this time without the angel’s help, and then swiped a bead of liquid off the top with his thumb and tasted it.

The angel groaned softly, and Connor’s clit tingled, starting to stiffen. It tasted- nice, salty and musky in a way that made Connor’s hips grind forward.

Connor rocked his hips again, eyelids fluttering shut, and when he felt himself being pulled into another kiss, he went easily, opening his mouth without hesitation. When the angel pushed his tongue in to rub against Connor’s, Connor sucked experimentally, and Angel hissed, cock jerking slightly against Connor’s knee.

Connor groped for it blindly and tugged again, careful but firm, and felt heat gather insistently in his groin. He shifted to rub his hard clit against the angel’s thigh, sighing against the other’s mouth in pleasure, and then started riding his thigh more insistently.

Eventually, Angel pulled away just to stroke Connor’s thigh and purr, “Wonderful.” Connor bit his lip on a whimper, and Angel grinned at him. “Absolutely perfect, handsome.”

Even knowing full well that the angel was playing him, Connor couldn’t help but whine, grinding down hard. The grin widened.

“Good boy,” he cooed, and Connor moaned, soft and helplessly pleased. God, he-

He opened his eyes abruptly, focusing on the man’s mouth, full soft lips and a smug smirk, and he swallowed and stammered out, mind too clouded to think properly, “What, what you did before, when you… you licked me… can you…?”

Angel’s smile softened, and he reached up to cup Connor’s cheek. “Ask for what you want, baby, I’ll give it to you.”

“Can you eat me out?” Connor blurted out, and then flinched, even as he kept bouncing on the angel’s thick, smooth thigh, rubbing against it for all he was worth.

“Good boy,” Angel murmured again, and Connor mewled despite himself, feeling his slick smear over the angel’s thigh. “Why don’t you let me lie down, and then you can sit on my face?”

Connor swallowed. “Oh,” he breathed, and then backed up mechanically, making room, wide eyes on the angel’s warm, anticipatory smile.

The angel squirmed down, and then beckoned Connor over, guiding him into place by the hips when Connor wavered. Finally, tentatively, Connor pressed his cunt against the angel’s mouth and bit down a gasp, stubble scratching against his inner thighs and a tongue already lapping eagerly at his entrance.

His angel’s hands were still on his hips, and he encouraged Connor to grind down, slow and careful, moaning quietly at the extra stimulation.

“Oh God,” Connor breathed, and rocked his hips slightly to give his angel better access to his swollen clit. “Oh, oh fuck, please. Ah, that’s good, that’s good. Ohh, like that.” The angel’s hands rubbed his thighs encouragingly, and Connor whimpered softly, feeling a tongue push firmly inside him. _“Uhh.”_

Minutes slipped by and Connor forgot almost all of his reservation, grinding down on Angel’s mouth with increasingly desperate moans.

“Angel, please, yes, yes, like that, like that, just a little more, harder, please, suck-” The beautiful angel made sense of Connor’s rambling and latched eagerly onto his thick, twitching t-dick, and Connor moaned, soaking wet and rocking down involuntarily, head lolling. “Yes, please, angel, I’m so close, I’m close, I want-”

The angel stroked up and down his thighs, once and then again, and Connor moaned, rolled his hips, rolled his hips again, and then started whining, bouncing a little on Angel’s face as he shuddered.

 _“Ohh,”_ Connor whimpered, chin dropping almost to his shoulder as his eyes squeezed shut, and came, rubbing out his pleasure in short, sharp jerks and letting his back arch. His breath whined in his chest, wrestling with the bolts of release.

It took him a second to catch his breath, shivering in place as the aftershocks died down, hips still twitching slightly while his body struggled to calm.

A gentle tap on his thigh reminded him to get off, and Connor hastily scrambled backward, down his angel’s body again, watching the man grin at him with a clearly wet mouth, looking oddly satisfied.

Connor opened his mouth and then closed it again, confused as to where to go from here, and the man just smiled, looking oddly fond. Connor’s thighs rubbed together, and he didn’t break eye contact with the angel, waiting for a cue of some kind, any kind.

“Want to learn how to suck a dick?” the angel offered, reaching down to stroke his cock once, and Connor nodded quickly, scooting back to make room and watching with intent, focused eyes.


	5. Teasing

It was this fourth dream that Connor kept lingering over, that made him stop and think about them as a sequence of events rather than one recurring phenomenon. Four visits in five months.

Because his angel had asked him if his studying was urgent.

He’d asked Connor if he wanted to learn to suck a dick, and then taught him.

He used different terms for Connor’s anatomy than Connor himself did, consistently and _respectfully,_ like someone erring on the side of caution. And Connor knew himself more than well enough to be aware that his subconscious was not nearly so polite.

The next time Connor opened his eyes to see the handsome angel lounging beside him, naked and half-hard already, he rolled over on top of the man, straddled him, and cocked his head.

The man went instantly very, very still, which was another warning sign. It only lasted a split second, and then he relaxed, smiling up at Connor with warm eyes. Involuntarily, Connor felt his tension soften a little.

His frown stayed, though, and he reached up to brush his thumb over the angel’s cheekbone, slow and studious.

“How are you doing this?” Connor asked at last, quietly. The room was still hazy around them; the world outside the window was blank, and many of his belongings were absent, particularly the natural debris of a living space.

And all of this was very hard to care about, like it being a dream smoothed away the edges of his restless consciousness.

He still wanted to kiss the angel.

Angel hesitated.

 _“What_ are you doing?” Connor pressed, brow furrowed, stroking another soft line down the angel’s cheek. “You’re too aware to be a dream. You know things I don’t. My jaw was sore when I woke up after I sucked you off, and you left bruises all over me once.”

 _You help me sleep,_ he didn’t say, though in his opinion that was almost the strangest thing of all. Every inch of their bodies stayed pressed together, warm skin against warm skin, and his angel’s mismatched eyes were faintly wary now.

Because Connor didn’t get to keep good things, not when he could ruin them instead.

Finally, though, the angel smiled up at him. Connor noticed that the wariness didn’t leave his eyes, but he spoke gently, kindly.

“I knew you were clever,” Angel said, and he reached up to cup Connor’s cheek in a mirror of how Connor held his. Connor tilted his head into the touch without breaking eye contact, and the angel continued, “You’re a little more aware every time I visit. It’s impressive.”

Connor waited, expectant, and the angel stroked his cheek softly.

“Are you sure you want to know?” the angel cooed, and shifted just enough that one thigh lifted at the right angle to rub against Connor’s sex. Connor bit his lip. “Wouldn’t you rather just enjoy it? I know you always have fun here.”

He tilted his head and kissed Connor’s palm, and Connor faltered. But then he shook his head.

“I prefer not to leave things unaddressed,” he said evenly, and tried not to pay too much mind to the hand starting to stroke down his back, slow and soft. The other one cupping his cheek slipped back down to tangle with his own over the angel’s.

The angel laughed quietly. “No, I suppose not. You’re very methodical.” His fingers traced lines over Connor’s back, feather-light, and he tried not to twitch under the feeling. “Do you want to know my name?” Connor nodded. “It’s Markus.”

“It’s good to meet you, Markus,” Connor murmured, eyes drifting half-shut as Markus’ hands started to wander up and down his bare back, his thigh shifting between Connor’s legs just enough to draw his attention. “I like your name.” Though he wasn’t entirely convinced it suited him better than ‘angel’.

Markus’ fingers just grazed the top of Connor’s ass, and Connor melted against him, just a little. At the next pass, they dipped into the crease of Connor’s ass, and Connor felt his clit twitch in interest.

“You’re right,” Markus continued, tugging Connor down just enough to press his lips against Connor’s shoulder and smile. “I have been inserting myself into your dreams. I hope I haven’t been too much of a bother.” Connor shook his head. Markus’ expression softened. “Want to tell me your name, handsome?”

Connor blinked, puzzled. “Connor.”

“Connor,” Markus echoed, with a surprising amount of warmth, and then tugged Connor up to kiss his throat without any apparent effort, lingering there, hot and wet. “Just about a cute enough name for you.”

“Mm,” Connor mumbled doubtfully, and tried to keep himself from grinding his hips into Markus as warmth settled under his skin. “You didn’t, ah, you didn’t answer my question.”

Markus’ hands were. Very distracting, skimming up his back and over his shoulders, down his arms and past his fingertips to his cheek and neck and back and hips and then Markus cupped his ass like his hands were meant to stay there and Connor felt his clit twitch again, hardening against Markus’ thigh.

Markus. Markus. Markus. Markus was a good name, Connor decided, flushed with the start of arousal.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask before,” Markus said, as if he hadn’t heard him. He kneaded his fingers into the meat of Connor’s ass, and Connor bit his cheek as he felt himself start to slick up. “Would you rather I use different terms for your sex? I think I was pretty careful, but I don’t really know you, so...”

 _“Hahh,”_ Connor exhaled, rubbing his clit hard against Markus’ thick thigh. “I’m… transmasc, not a trans _man._ You, um, you…” His eyelids fluttered, lips parting as Markus guided his hips into grinding harder against him. “Don’t have to be so… careful. I like femme terms too.” He moaned softly, legs spreading to gain leverage, and then finished weakly, “I like when you call my clit a cock, but I call it a clit.”

“A little of both, then,” Markus concluded with a small smile, and then rolled them over so he was on top, Connor underneath him with a knee between his thighs. “I’m an incubus.”

Any first reactions Connor might have had to that were bumped out when Markus rocked his thigh against Connor, and he moaned, canting his hips up into the stimulation. He swallowed twice as he recovered, thoughts thick and liquid.

“So,” he managed, “when, when I dream of you-”

Markus reached down and stroked Connor in the exact V formation Connor had asked him to, and Connor squirmed, whining softly.

“I’m siphoning off sexual energy, yes,” Markus agreed mildly. “Never enough to hurt you – that would take at least a couple visits a week. But some. You’re beautifully sensitive, Connor.”

He thumbed Connor’s clit gently, and Connor gasped, breath coming heavy.

Had to focus.

“Why would you choose…” He trailed off into another soft groan as Markus carefully circled his clit again, and then shifted just enough to grind the shaft of his cock along Connor’s cunt in an implied promise. “M-me?” Oh God, it felt good, Connor’s hips kept rocking up into Markus’ cock without his say-so.

“Because,” Markus hummed amiably, leaning down, “you are _very_ cute, Connor.”

And then he kissed Connor, deep and generous, and ground his hips into Connor’s. And Connor let go and moaned into the kiss, reaching up to tug Markus closer.

 _“Ahh,”_ Connor gasped against Markus’ lips, flushed and panting. “I really like it, Markus. I, I like it when you visit.” Markus thrust against him, grinning now, much more relaxed, and Connor whimpered, tingling and hard. “Ohh, more.”

“You really are a sweetheart,” Markus sighed, rolling his hips against Connor, smearing his slick all over his shaft. “You want me to fuck you, gorgeous? I can do that, you’ve been such a good boy for me tonight.”

Connor rocked up with a soft whine, body heating up further for seemingly no reason at all. “Yes, please yes, you make me feel so _good.”_

“Do you like the way I touch you, handsome?” Markus crooned, hips rubbing slow and deliberate against Connor’s. “Do I make you come just right?”

Connor nodded breathlessly, squirming under Markus. “Uh-huh, yeah, you touch me _perfect,_ Markus, please-”

Markus started to ease his cock into Connor, and Connor broke off into a moan, melting back into the pillows, feeling Markus keep rubbing around his swollen clit and rock into his wet cunt and it just, it felt _wonderful._

“Good boy,” Markus cooed down to him, looking soft and pleased now, “You’re taking my cock so well, look how happy it makes you, are you going to come on my cock? Did I tease you too much, baby?”

“More,” Connor begged, spread out and exposed, heat in his cheeks and flushing down his chest and so fucking _full._ “Please, need you to fuck me more.”

“Oh, you beg so sweet, Connor,” Markus sighed, hips speeding up a little in just the right way to make Connor whine. “You’re so good and tight around my cock, so warm and wet and lovely.”

Connor shoved his palms into the mattress, arching up into Markus’ cock and Markus’ fingers and _Markus,_ hips jerking to chase the stimulation, the wonderful tickle on his clit _._ “Markus- Markus-”

“Are you close, baby?” Markus smiled, eyes half-lidded and dark, breath panting with pleasure and spilling over Connor’s neck. “Are you coming?”

Connor whined a little, circling his hips up into Markus’. God, Markus was real. Markus was a real person who was fucking him, cock filling Connor up like a dream, even and slow and deep and Connor was so hot and so wound up and- “Yeah, I- I think I’m gonna-”

Markus’ eyes lit up, and he purred, “Good boy.”

 _“Oh,”_ Connor whimpered, and he shivered and came around Markus’ cock, hips jerking and grinding onto it, feeling pleasure ripple through him warm and stirring, and god, he already wanted more. “Ohh.”

“Beautiful,” Markus purred, and kept fucking him.


	6. Mirrors

One of Connor’s scholarships didn’t go through.

One of Connor’s scholarships didn’t go through, and so Connor was at the VA starting at eight in the morning, as soon as they opened for the day. Because if his scholarship didn’t go through, he was going to have to figure out how to pay another eight hundred out of pocket, or else ask _Nines,_ and he couldn’t do that, so instead he spent hours struggling with bureaucracy, pulling together all the paperwork to prove he met requirements.

Benefiting from everything he’d done in the army. In Special Forces. Benefiting from-

It took two hours longer than expected, and Connor missed his next class. He missed his class, so he missed the test _in_ the class, and he was in his professor’s office an hour later, explaining what had happened and trying to convince them to let him retake it next week, and he kept stammering and stopping because he was _slammed_ with the feeling that he should just take the punishment, make it easier on himself, because he deserved it anyway. He deserved it.

A car cut across the bus Connor took home, and the bus slammed on the brakes, horn blaring. Connor bit down on the silicone tag he’d been anxiously chewing on, his heart abruptly trying to beat out of his chest, and it finally gave way under the strain and tore under his teeth.

He swore loudly, got off the bus right then and there before he hit something, and stormed off blindly in a random direction, trying to outrun the creeping panic and the nausea.

Between everything, he forgot to eat until almost five in the evening, and then it was time for his shift and he didn’t have time, and he was so fucking _jumpy_ that he was yelling at shadows and it took _forever_ and he just wanted to fucking go home, but he had a job to do, but he was useless even at that and he snapped at his coworkers until they were avoiding him and…

At one in the morning, he passed out in his own bed without bothering to eat, spitefully ignoring his growling stomach. He didn’t want it. He didn’t deserve it.

The presence of another person in his bed made Connor jump violently and roll out of bed into a crouch, tense and panicked- and then Markus pushed himself up and looked down at him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Bad time?” Markus asked mildly, while Connor struggled to control his breathing.

Connor opened and closed his mouth, bit his tongue irritably, and finally corrected, soft and strained, “Bad day. Sorry.” He swallowed, shame burning in his stomach. The first time Markus had visited since telling Connor the truth, and Connor treats him like a threat. “Sorry.”

Connor crumpled onto the ground, barely staying seated. He was so fucking _tired,_ and he didn’t deserve to sleep either.

“Sorry,” he repeated compulsively, reaching up to rub his face. Tears pricked at his eyes, and his breath stuttered. “You, you wanted, I mean…”

God, he was such a fuck-up. Couldn’t he do _anything_ right?

“Hey, easy,” he heard Markus say, and then the man settled down in front of him, slow and gentle and unthreatening. “Listen to me, sweetheart, you’re not obligated to do anything. I can go somewhere else, or I can skip today, it won’t hurt me. Did you eat?” Connor shook his head numbly. “Can you do that when you wake up?”

Connor hesitated, and then nodded helplessly. When he glanced up, Markus was smiling at him kindly. Connor’s breath hitched.

“Good boy,” Markus said softly, and Connor’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, longing overtaking him. “Now, do you want me to touch you, handsome? It might help you to feel better for a while.”

Connor took a breath, took a breath, and then nodded miserably, even as guilt threatened to eat at him. He didn’t deserve to feel good.

He didn’t deserve his angel.

Then soft lips pressed to his, coaxing his mouth open, and Connor let them, feeling Markus’ breath against his face and his tongue rubbing against Connor’s, easing some of the tension out of him. Hands latched onto Connor’s arms, and then stroked up and down, back and forth, soothing and warm.

Now that Connor knew that Markus was real, it was as if the touch had amplified, taking up so much of Connor’s headspace that it threatened to drown out everything else with just how hot, how electric, how _intimate_ it was.

It was so rare for anyone to touch Connor so gently.

Connor leaned into Markus and sighed, wanting desperately to give in, trying to match Markus movement for movement, tongue against tongue and lips on lips.

It was just a dream. No threats to him here.

When Markus pulled away and started to tug Connor into a new position, Connor let him, as stiffly compliant as he could manage, and soon he was seated with his back to Markus, tucked right against him, hyperaware of how close they were.

“Open your eyes,” Markus coaxed when he seemed to be done, and Connor did.

There was a mirror in front of them now, showing Connor seated in between Markus’ thighs and Markus’ arms hooked around his stomach, holding him close. As he watched, Markus rested his chin on Connor’s shoulder and smiled gently at the mirror, stroking Connor up and down his stomach.

It was warm. Connor wondered when the last time someone had held him this close and this gently had been, dreams aside.

 _High school,_ he decided sleepily, _when Nines would sneak into my room and hold me when I cried. That was…_

Markus thumbed over one of the mastectomy scars and murmured to him, “I told you before that I came to you because you were cute.” Connor nodded – he remembered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it. “It was also because you’re very, very sweet. Do you know how many people ask if they can touch me?”

Markus’ smile took the worry out of his words, and he pressed a kiss to Connor’s cheek, both their eyes still on the mirror image.

“I came into your dreams,” Markus continued, hands creeping downward until they were on Connor’s thighs, “and came onto you, in the guise of an ordinary wet dream, and you asked if it was okay to touch me.”

But that wasn’t kindness. Connor, Connor had scripts, he was lost without them, he followed _rules._ He followed- he followed.

Oblivious, Markus nuzzled into Connor’s throat, laid a kiss there firm enough to make Connor gasp quietly, and continued, “You followed my lead, you asked for what you wanted- really, you made my job very easy. And you’re always so wonderfully _responsive.”_ He smiled against Connor’s neck, at just the right angle for Connor to see it in the mirror. “Even I like to know I’m making my partner feel good.”

Markus worried at Connor’s neck, making him squirm, and then started to stroke Connor’s clit until it started to grow. Connor tipped his head back and bit his lip watching Markus’ fingers work in the mirror, rubbing up and down over Connor’s exposed cunt, clit nestled in the short, coarse hair.

It was-

“Don’t you think we look lovely, gorgeous?” Markus murmured to Connor, dropping his hand to rub over Connor’s entrance as he started to slick. “There we go, how does that feel?”

Connor turned his head into Markus’, tried not to shiver at how _close_ they were, how Markus’ breath brushed over his face and neck, how Markus’ arms wrapped around him. Markus’ face was right next to Connor’s, and it didn’t appear to bother him at all. Markus’ fingers stroked down over Connor’s cunt, and then spread him open for the mirror, and Connor sighed.

“Good,” he admitted belatedly, and tried not to feel bad about it.

“Good,” Markus echoed with clear pleasure, and circled around the rim of Connor’s entrance, and Connor whimpered, soft and bitten-off. He could feel Markus hardening against his ass, thick and hot. “You make the cutest sounds when I touch you. You may not have been a virgin, but you were very close to it, weren’t you, handsome?”

“I have a complicated relationship with other people,” Connor muttered, which was a lie, because he was a liar, because that relationship was generally ‘easy to dislike’, which was quite simple, really.

Then he forgot all about what he’d been thinking, because Markus pressed his lips to Connor’s neck and hummed, and Connor moaned, feeling heat bolt through his stomach and down to his cunt. Markus rubbed Connor’s thickened clit, and then decisively pushed his middle finger inside, working against the tingling flesh.

“You get wet so quickly for me,” Markus praised quietly, and there was no mistaking that tone for anything but praise, soft and pleased and warm. He was smiling at Connor in the mirror, eyes heavy-lidded with anticipation as he canted his hips against Connor’s back, his cock sliding wetly across the lowest part of Connor’s back. “It’s not often someone is so sweet and eager, even for me. Makes things so much more fun.”

He pulled his middle finger out, pushed two fingers in, pulled them out, and spread them, showing off the sticky fluids that connected them for just a moment before bursting. Connor whined, arousal swooping through his stomach.

“See?” Markus crooned, pushing his fingers back into Connor and rubbing against his inner walls, exactly where it made Connor feel like his mind was fogging up with liquid pleasure. “Aren’t you a good boy for me?”

He pressed over Connor’s clit and then pushed against the skin so that they could both see the faint bulge there, pressing up under Connor’s hood, and Connor shivered.

“I’ll be good for you,” Connor promised, spreading his legs and flushing as he took in his mirror image, wet and flushed and limp, leaning on Markus, who looked so _smug._ “I can be, I can be so good.”

“You _are,”_ Markus crooned, and then stroked him again, and Connor squirmed. “A sweet, strong good boy who I love to visit.” His opposite hand stroked Connor’s thigh, slow and calm, and Connor stretched and groaned under the ministrations. “Yes, just like that, Connor. Do you want me to fuck you now? Do you want to sit on my cock?”

Connor nodded, breathless and dazed, and tried to squirm into place. Markus helped him, and Connor couldn’t help but glance quickly up to the mirror again, watching as Markus’ cock pressed into his cunt, as it spread him open, as his cunt swallowed it inch by inch, until he finally bottomed out, snug against Markus’ sack.

Connor moaned, watching his own expression crumple in pleasure, and Markus’ eyes slide shut, letting out a groan that Connor could feel against his bare back. It was, it was-

Markus stroked Connor’s clit and Connor’s breath hitched, thoughts dissolving easily.

“Don’t you look pretty?” Markus crooned in his ear.

“Yeah,” Connor breathed without thinking, panting and squirming, and when Markus urged his hips upward, he lifted them easily… and then back down. And up, and down, and after a minute Connor realized Markus was guiding Connor through riding his cock, and he tried to pick it up without getting too distracted by the mirror image of his cunt swallowing Markus’ cock, over and over and- “Uhn, _ah.”_

He pressed Markus’ hand harder over his clit, the edge of the other man’s palm grinding against it, and whimpered. Markus felt so good inside him.

“You’re so soft and wet inside,” Markus told him, hand still on his hip even though Connor had gotten the hang of it now. “That’s perfect, handsome, you’re doing perfect, why don’t you try a squeeze- _ahh.”_

The moan sounded vaguely performative, and it _still_ made Connor shiver, clenching again around Markus’ cock. Markus’ arm squeezed around his stomach, pulling him closer, and Connor leaned back and rocked the best he could, groaning softly at the sweet rub of Markus’ cock at _just that spot, yes, please._

“Markus,” Connor moaned, and Markus hissed and thrust up into Connor, startling another, louder moan out of him. “Yes, Markus, please.” Connor tried to speed up a little, struggling for a minute to keep a rhythm, but Markus helped him again, groaning into his neck. “Markus, angel-”

Markus hissed, and Connor might have worried save for the way he _shoved_ down on Connor’s clit, making him cry out at the jolt of pleasure. “Oh, baby, you have no idea how sweet you sound,” Markus murmured, biting lightly into Connor’s neck.

“Markus, please, I want, I want to…” Connor struggled for words, but pleasure had overtaken the stress of the day, all of his nerves focused on the building tension, and God, he wanted to come.

He looked so desperate, bouncing on Markus’ lap. He looked helpless and wanton and eager and- and he looked. He looked hot.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” Markus purred. “Come on my cock like a _good boy.”_

Connor let go, dropped his head to Markus’ shoulder, and moaned, feeling the swelling tension release in a ripple of dizzying heat and twitching shocks, Markus’ hand on his clit and Markus’ cock in his cunt and Markus’ arm holding him to his chest.

“Good boy,” Markus repeated when he finally stopped, sounding oddly pleased for someone who hadn’t come yet, and he kissed Connor on the cheek.


	7. Watersports

Usually Connor could expect a visit from Markus at least once every two or three weeks. It wasn’t much, but the full nights were such a novelty that even after only a matter of months he’d started to depend on them.

This meant that when Markus took a little longer between visits, Connor was running on less than fumes by the end of the fifth week.

He’d gotten too used to being able to sleep every once in a while. Stupid.

He came home after two classes and a security shift, didn’t bother getting food, didn’t undress, didn’t even go to bed. He checked the door, the windows, the fire escape, and then collapsed on the couch and passed out cold, arm hanging off the side carelessly.

He was so relieved to see Markus when he opened his eyes that he hopped right to his feet and kissed him, messy and desperate. Markus laughed, holding onto his waist, and entertained it for a moment, melting into it like Connor hadn’t just ambushed him without warning.

“Happy to see me?” Markus asked with amusement, as soon as Connor broke the kiss to breathe. “Or are you just that horny, sweetheart?”

Connor faltered and hummed disconsolately, unsure of what answer Markus wanted. “I’m always happy to see you,” he said eventually.

Markus’ expression softened, and he kissed Connor on the mouth, just this side of chaste. “In the mood for a tumble, honey?”

Connor nodded quickly, tugging Markus in the direction of the bedroom, but it seemed Markus had a different destination in mind; as soon as they got close to the wall, Markus pinned Connor against it with a bang, suddenly inches away and looking all too pleased.

“I think here could suit us just fine,” Markus purred.

Connor felt himself get almost immediately wet, too aware of Markus’ strength, and his mouth opened just a little. Markus covered it instantly, and Connor hummed, leaning into the kiss eagerly.

There was a pressure in his gut, entirely separate from his arousal, but it was too late for that now. A thigh pressed between his, and he rocked against it, sighing against Markus’ mouth. His arms went up to wrap around Markus’ shoulders, urging him closer.

God, he was so _warm._ Connor couldn’t get over how good it felt to touch someone, anyone. It was overwhelming, and at the same time he wanted as much of it as possible.

Markus pulled away just enough to speak, mismatched eyes half-lidded and dark with desire. “You’re always so eager for me,” he sighed happily, hands rubbing into Connor’s hips, and he urged Connor to rock against him, earning a gasp. “What do you think, handsome? Is here a good place?”

“Yeah,” Connor breathed, eyes wide, and kept his balance easily as Markus hiked up one of his legs just enough to expose his cunt.

“Beautiful,” Markus murmured, and rocked against Connor without pressing in. “A bit frustrated, gorgeous? You slicked up so quick for me.”

“I missed you,” Connor admitted without hesitation, eyes sliding half-shut at the slide of Markus’ cock over his slit. A flush crept over his cheeks, hot and excited. “I didn’t know anyone could touch me quite like this.”

“Then you haven’t been sleeping with the right people,” Markus said lightly, pressing kisses to Connor’s neck and making him shudder, anticipation making him arch and try to rub against Markus. “Oh, baby, are you ready? Are you nice and hot for me?”

Connor nodded quickly, and before Markus could, dropped one hand to take Markus’ cock and guide it towards his hole, trying not to get too distracted by the firm, hot flesh under his hand. He bit his tongue as Markus entered, so quick that it was a bit of a stretch, but rocked back impatiently. The stimulation combined with the pressure in his gut made him whimper in pleasure, burying his face in Markus’ neck to kiss him there.

“Your cock feels so good, Markus,” Connor mumbled against his neck, panting quiet and hot. “Shit, I love it so much. Hell.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Markus crooned, and rocking into him, cock sliding in and out of Connor’s wet cunt with ease, making him moan softly as it rubbed over his insides, big and hard and hot. He dropped his fingers to his clit, rubbing it instinctively, and when he glanced up Markus was smiling at him. “Good to see you getting into the rhythm of things, sweetheart.”

Connor flushed, embarrassed, but before he could respond Markus picked up the pace a little, hips pumping in and out of Connor, and Connor melted, just held up by Markus’ grip under his thigh.

The pressure in his gut was building into something threatening, and Connor could not bring himself to pay it any mind, moaning under Markus’ touch.

“Harder,” he begged, foggy and aroused, one arm still hooked over Markus’ shoulder, watching the other’s face twist slightly in concentration and lust, moaning softly under his breath. “I- push me, please, I want-”

Markus pushed on Connor’s thigh until the stretch hurt, and Connor groaned loudly, head dropping back, and ground the heel of his palm against his clit.

 _“Yes,”_ Connor moaned helplessly, watching Markus through his eyelashes as the man bared his teeth in a grin. Connor’s bladder was starting to hurt, but God, he felt so _good._ “God, hold that, Markus, angel, please.”

“Of course,” Markus chuckled, slightly strained, and his head tilted, half-lidded eyes focusing on Connor’s face as he rutted into him. “God, but you look handsome, sweetheart, you look so wonderfully needy for me, so hot and open for my cock.”

Connor nodded without thinking, biting his cheek against the rising pleasure as Markus ground into his hungry cunt, rocking back to match him the best he could. It was so good, it was-

Connor’s eyes popped wide open as the pressure in his bladder roared for attention, and his cunt clenched compulsively. “Shit, no, hell, I’m gonna- _fucking shit-”_ He froze completely, mortification sending heat flooding into his face as he struggled.

Puzzlement flickered across Markus’ face, and then he glanced down, laughed, and pressed deliberately into Connor; Connor would have almost thought he misunderstood save for the way he pressed on Connor’s stomach, exactly where-

Connor whined in defeat and peed, a warm trail of urine splattering over his cunt, Markus’ cock, and both his thighs, dripping to the ground, going on and on. The release of pressure might have felt almost blissful, if it weren’t for the burning mortification in his chest.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he said miserably, before he was even completely done, already trying to squirm away, but Markus just grinned at him and started moving again, ignoring the dripping urine. He even groaned, low and heady, like he _liked_ it.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it happens,” Markus reassured him, eyes glittering with lingering amusement. His hand dropped to take the place of Connor’s stilled fingers, circling around Connor’s dampened clit and making Connor whimper despite himself. “Long, hah, long day?”

Connor hummed a weak affirmation, lifting his arm back around Markus’ shoulders, and God, his hips wouldn’t stop moving, grinding back against Markus even as hot liquid trailed down his calf. “Was really tired,” he mumbled, tipping his head back against the wall. Relief mixed with arousal, and his cunt pulsed with heat. _“Fuck,_ Markus…”

Markus huffed a laugh and adjusted his grip on Connor’s thigh, his fingers sliding over some of the splattered urine, and rolled his hips into Connor’s. “Feel better, handsome? Did that, _ah,_ feel good?”

Connor whimpered, finally giving in to cling on to Markus, grinding back against him. He nodded shamefully, shuddering. “Yeah,” he breathed, his whole body rolling with his hips as he rubbed himself into Markus. “God, yeah, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I feel so _fucking_ good.”

“No, that’s good, gorgeous,” Markus cooed, and his cock rubbed so hard and so perfect into Connor and Connor moaned, pushing back even as Markus sped up. “Ohh, you deserve to feel good. Amazing.”

Connor hid his face in Markus’ neck and whined, hips speeding up, jerking into Markus’ and back still pressed against the wall. “Markus. _Markus.”_ He clenched experimentally, squeezing the best he could, and Markus groaned.

“Are you close, baby? Are you going to come?”

“Uh-huh,” Connor gasped, reaching down to push Markus’ hand against him. “It feels, it feels- oh God, harder-”

Markus leaned his weight into Connor, stretching Connor’s thigh further up, which wasn’t what he’d meant and it _hurt,_ but God, it made Connor cry out, and then Markus’ hips were jerking into him, fast and rough, and the inside of Connor’s thigh was starting to chill where his wet skin met the air-

Connor squeezed his arms around Markus’ shoulders and came, muffling his cries into Markus’ neck and hips pumping back against Markus, grinding and searching out every last spark of pleasure as it shot through his belly. Markus groaned, coming into Connor just as Connor was settling down, and Connor moaned softly, oddly pleased as Markus spilled into him.

It left Markus panting in front of him, braced against the wall and pressed chest to groin to Connor, and finally, Markus grinned at him. Hesitantly, Connor gave him a sheepish smile back, and when Markus started to ease them both down, he went along, sighing.

“So tired you didn’t even go to the bathroom before you passed out, huh?” Markus asked with some amusement, and Connor flushed. Markus gave him a gentle smile. “Do I need to scale my visits back a little? I know dreams from an incubus can be tiring, and you’re going to have to clean that up in the morning.”

Connor shot bolt upright, irrationally frightened. No, if Markus- if Markus stopped-

“No!” he blurted out, bit down another apology, took a breath, and said forcefully, “I haven’t slept so many full nights since I was discharged. I-” He bit his cheek and finished meekly, “It’s- it’s good to have nice dreams. Please. I like it.”

 _He didn’t mean it as a punishment,_ Connor reminded himself sternly, trying to believe it- God, he’d been over this shit with Simon _so many times-_

Markus looked so floored by his words that as soon as Connor noticed, it jostled him most of the way out of his panic, and he stared at Markus anxiously, resisting the urge to bring his thumb up to chew on it. Markus’ mouth opened a little, and then closed, and then Markus smiled softly.

“I’m glad,” Markus said, with unexpected sincerity. “I can try to visit more often, if that would help. Maybe around once a week? Fridays?”

Hardly daring to hope, Connor nodded hesitantly, eyes wide.

“It’s a date,” Markus said cheerfully, and kissed him on the cheek.


	8. Stalking

Connor didn’t start worrying until he started seeing Markus in the waking world.

Connor had a very strict routine, was the thing; not hour by hour, he was too dependent on other people’s schedules for that, but item by item. He took the same bus to and from work and classes even if it meant waiting for forty-five minutes and taking another would be faster; he only ever met Hank at work, even when the man was picking him up to go somewhere else. Nines called on Saturdays and visited on some Sundays, and if he was planning to visit he always told Connor and would arrive right before lunch, no matter when that happened to be that day.

And he only saw Markus when he was sleeping, and when that changed, he got jumpy and suspicious. Was there something Markus wasn’t telling him?

It wasn’t constantly; it wasn’t even just out of the corner of his eye, or in private spaces. It was more like he was being followed – he would see Markus on the same street as him, watching him from a bench, and once in the lobby of the tech building Connor worked in.

Connor didn’t like changes in routine.

“What are you looking at?” Hank asked eventually, when Connor paused before climbing into the vehicle with him, his attention lingering on a figure across the street even as he pretended to just be checking inside Hank’s car.

“I haven’t seen that man around before,” Connor said after a beat of hesitation, knowing that Hank, after almost two years of friendship, would understand the implied anxiety in the statement. Hank raised an eyebrow, and Connor tilted his head slightly in Markus’ direction.

Hank, bless him, glanced over with a modicum of discretion before looking back at Connor. “What, with the weird eyes?” Connor bit back an automatic defense of Markus’ (pretty) eyes and nodded, and then nodded again. Hank shrugged. “Well, he doesn’t usually hang out, I’ll admit, but he works just across the street. Runs that shelter there.” The domestic abuse shelter, Connor understood. “He’s been around, I’ve talked to him more than a couple times. Don’t worry about it.”

Connor stared, surprised. “How long?”

It had been about five months since he’d met Markus, and only about a week and a half of seeing him hang around. Surely Connor would have noticed him before.

Hank hemmed and hawed until Connor finally climbed into the car, and then answered offhandedly, “At least six years, I think. They get a lot of incidents, you understand, people that need cops to tell ‘em to fuck off. I get the impression he tries not to call too much though.”

His voice was dry, and Connor just nodded. “I haven’t seen him,” he repeated.

“You work weird hours,” Hank pointed out, and pulled away. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. You stress too much.”

Connor knew. He was rather neurotic that way. “Sorry.”

Hank waved him off. “Whatever. Food?”

Connor allowed the subject to be changed, though he still lingered over Markus’ presence, curious and thoughtful.

With much of the anxiety about how far Markus may or may not be going to follow him relieved, Connor allowed his thoughts to shift gears, wondering over his motivations instead. If he kept different hours than Connor, that meant he was specifically arranging to be out when Connor was around. Why would he do that?

Had Connor somehow manipulated Markus into choosing Connor to fuck? Working at an abuse shelter, he was clearly a good person – nothing Connor hadn’t know already, of course, but then what interest could he possibly have in Connor? Markus deserved much better than- well, than Connor. He just hadn’t realized that yet; Connor had quite thoroughly tricked him.

Or maybe he did – he seemed clever – and his interest was… different. If he understood that Connor deserved no better than to be used, and so he-

And then Connor started _fantasizing._

He wondered if Markus might sneak in during a shift and tell Connor he was hungry, and he wanted a ‘snack’ – and maybe he would push Connor against a wall again and rub Connor through his pants and-

Or maybe he’d catch Connor on the way home, and pull him into an alley and kiss him and make Connor whimper into his mouth.

Or he’d pull Connor into his own office and have Connor kneel under it and-

Well. Suffice to say that the next time Connor noticed Markus around, he looked away quickly, flushed, and had a slightly harder than usual time concentrating that day.

When Markus finally visited Connor’s dreams again, he braced himself, and then brought it up.

“You’ve been following me,” he said without even pushing himself upright, unwavering attention on Markus, who, he noticed, stiffened slightly in place, relaxing only after half a second to give Connor the same gentle smile he’d put on when Connor first confronted him.

“We work close together,” Markus explained apologetically, unknowingly confirming Hank’s information. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to unsettle you. I was just… curious about your routine. Your schedule seems pretty irregular.”

Connor lifted his head to push his arm under it and nodded. “I’ve only been working there for a couple years, so I don’t exactly have seniority. I take what shifts I can.”

Then Markus slid closer to Connor, pushing himself against him, and smirked from very, very close. “So… now that you’ve caught me, what are you going to do?”

His voice was low and dripping with suggestiveness, and it made Connor swallow.

Tentatively, he rolled over on top of Markus in an echo of his first confrontation and ground his hips deliberately into Markus’ cock, perking up a little when Markus sighed in clear pleasure, smiling up at Connor.

“I was thinking,” Connor said, soft and slow, “that I might not mind too much if you wanted to catch me after work sometime.” Markus’ head tilted, eyes kindling with interest, and Connor continued with slightly more confidence, “If you wanted to pull me into an alley on my way to the bus, and-” Connor leaned down and pressed his lips to Markus’ neck, sucking lightly, and then mumbled, “And stick your hand in my pants and touch me.”

“Aren’t you sweet,” Markus sighed, and then reached up and tugged Connor’s hips, forcing him to grind against Markus’ shaft with a gasp. “And then what? Would you want me to grind you into the wall? Pin you there and try to hump you dry until you came right there?”

Connor shivered, heat dropping down into his stomach and his t-dick scraping against Markus’ cock, and nodded helplessly, elbows still planted on either side of Markus. “Don’t like PDA,” he sighed, moving his hips up and down Markus’ cock, slow and almost hypnotic. “But you’d make it feel so good I almost want it anyway. I can’t even think about you without getting wet.”

Markus’ cock was thick and solid and pulsing against him, warm and slickening with Connor’s juices, and it was almost as intoxicating as the slow rub of his stomach along Connor’s as Connor moved.

God, Markus was so _warm._

“That’s what I like to hear,” Markus chuckled, dragging Connor into a kiss hard enough to bruise, making Connor sigh into his mouth. His knees hooked Connor closer, making Connor grind harder against him, and he groaned appreciatively against Connor’s mouth. “Damn, you juice up so nice for me.”

Connor hummed a soft affirmation, feeling his clit pulse with pleasure even as Markus let his mouth go. “I’d let you take me whenever you wanted,” Connor murmured, half a promise, flushed and breath starting to deepen. His hips humped harder against Markus, sliding deliberately up and down that thick shaft, and Markus moaned quietly. “Even if you just wanted me to kneel for you and blow you, I’d do it.”

He’d only tried sucking Markus’ cock once so far, when Markus had first coached him through learning how. But- he’d really liked it, and he still remembered the slide of hot flesh over his lips and tongue.

He wanted it.

Connor rolled his hips against Markus’, whining softly in the back of his throat as his entrance slid over the throbbing vein under Markus’ cock, and went without resistance when Markus reached up and pulled him into a deep, dirty kiss, moving lips and tongues and teeth. Markus bit down on his bottom lip, and Connor moaned, halting and strained, rubbing his body into Markus’ as if searching for something.

“Ride me,” Markus goaded at last, between nips at Connor’s bottom lip, panting with arousal as his cock throbbed and twitched against Connor. “Take what you want, Connor, _prove it.”_

Connor’s hips jerked unintentionally, thrusting hard against Markus and sending heat bolting up his spine and earning a gasp into his mouth. Markus pulled away and grinned at him, flushed and eyes glittering, and Connor swallowed, flushing and wanting.

“Are you sure?” he asked at last, hesitantly. Markus laughed.

“Oh, gorgeous,” he said fondly. “I’d let you do whatever you wanted to me.”

Connor swallowed, and then pushed himself upright, letting his wet cunt slide against Markus a few more times because he couldn’t bring himself to resist, and then lifted himself up. He started to reach for Markus’ cock, faltered, and glanced at Markus, who smiled at him indulgently, still panting and heavy-lidded.

Connor grasped the soft-skinned cock, held it for a moment, and then took a deep breath and slid it into his cunt, whining softly as it pushed against aching, sensitive nerves.

“Markus,” he choked out, face hot and breath heavy, loving the stretch of the thick cock inside him. He took it faster than Markus usually gave it to him, and it was enough to make him bite his lip against the faint strain. _“Ahhnmm.”_

Markus groaned loudly under him, drawing Connor’s attention back down, and his hands settled on Connor’s hips, not forcing him to move but just… staying there, rubbing and kneading, while Markus gave him a dazed grin. “Any day now, handsome.”

Taking the cue for what it was, Connor lifted himself up and started riding him, swearing under his breath at the hot friction, close to painful until his cunt slicked up a little better and opened up for Markus. He almost missed it, except there was nothing that wasn’t perfect about the way Markus’ cock rubbed against his walls, filling him up and sending ripples of pleasure into his gut.

Connor moaned openly, and before he could think to touch his clit, one of Markus’ hands moved to do it for him, stroking just at the root of the thick button exactly where Connor was _just short_ of too sensitive. Connor whimpered, clenching around him in weak gratitude, hands planted on Markus’ stomach.

“It’s good, Markus,” he managed after a while, head fuzzy and clouded with pleasure. “Your cock is so _fucking_ big, it feels so good inside me, I- God, please, I’d let you take me whenever you wanted, I just-”

Connor moaned, grinding down and trying to force Markus deeper inside him even as his coarse pubic hair tangled with Connor’s, tickling and faintly itchy and barely noticeable when Markus hissed, bucked up, and pressed his thumb into the skin of Connor’s mound, rubbing a harsh circle there.

“Yeah?” Markus panted, eyes dark with lust, thrusting up just a little into Connor, jostling him and making him whine even as he tried to keep rhythm. “You’d let me come over and sneak you out of class and bend you over a desk? Let me catch you on a bus and feel you up on your way home? Fuck you in a taxi?”

Connor nodded helplessly, gasping in pleasure, rubbing himself down with each stroke to struggle and take more. “Yes, yes, please, I would, I would, I want-”

His hips circled down, and he whined loudly, hot and panting. His inner thighs rubbed against Markus’ hips, hair catching faintly on hair, and heat rippled up him like a puddle in a lake.

 _“Ah,”_ he whimpered, hips twitching. Markus groaned, and that was it. Connor tipped his head back, faltered, and croaked, _“Markus, fuck, Markus-”_

His hand slammed down over Markus’, grinding it against his clit, and Connor shuddered over Markus, rubbing himself against the root of his cock, whimpering under the waves of release as he twitched and listened to Markus groan, squirming between Connor’s thighs.

God, he was going to miss this when Markus stopped coming.

He gasped for breath a few times as the aftershocks started to slow, and, still sensitive, started riding Markus’ cock again, peeking down to see Markus grinning up at him, warm and pleased.

Good. Good.


	9. Knifeplay

Connor felt the weight straddling him before he even opened his eyes to the dream, and when he did he found Markus on top of him, mismatched eyes burning with intensity, focused enough on Connor to make him freeze, heart rabbiting like a mouse in a trap.

“It’s been a rough day and I’m in an aggressive mood,” Markus warned before Connor could even open his mouth. “You want me to leave, you tell me at any time, but preferably now.”

Connor swallowed. He could feel Markus’ cock, half-hard already, pressed against Connor’s cunt. “Anything,” he promised recklessly.

It had been a bad week for nightmares.

Markus reached out, trailing his fingers lightly up Connor’s throat, over his pulse. Connor tilted his head up, breath stuttering slightly. “You want me to slow down, you tell me ‘yellow.’ You want me to stop, you tell me ‘red.’ No questions asked.” Pause, and Markus waited until Connor nodded, eyes wide. “I want to cut you. I was thinking a knife. Will you let me?”

Connor felt heat creeping up his neck and into his face already, and his hips twitched upward without his say so. His breath came quick and shallow, heart quick and frightened. And God, he was- he was already wet, his clit thickening and demanding to be rubbed into Markus’ cock.

He wondered what had happened to put Markus in such a bad mood.

“Yes,” he breathed, hot and hard and turned on beyond belief. “Yes, please.”

Markus graced him with a brief, kind smile that quickly eased into a hot leer, the other man leaning down into him and canting his hips forward into Connor. “Oh, you shouldn’t give in so recklessly, sweetheart,” he murmured, cock twitching against Connor’s groin. “Give me one hard limit.”

Odd request. Connor tilted his head back, shaky and warm, and tried to think.

“Don’t grab my arms,” he rasped at last. “I won’t like it.” It always made him think he was in trouble.

“Good boy,” Markus murmured, and then he arched against Connor, grinding down, and his form… shifted.

It was still Markus, the same eyes, same hair, same skin and nose and perfect, pretty mouth – but elegant ram’s horns curled back on either side of his head, shimmering like a mirage, and bat wings half-unfolded on his back while a spiked tail unraveled behind him, swaying like a charmed snake.

The last thing Connor noticed was the claws, and it was because Markus trailed one down his cheek, slow and gentle, eyes half-lidded and steamy.

“Color,” Markus ordered, rocking his hips just a little against Connor’s, so his hard shaft rubbed teasingly over Connor’s slit, sending ripples of warmth up his groin.

“Green,” Connor croaked without hesitation, elbows digging into the mattress, panting for breath as his clit burned with want. He didn’t take his eyes off Markus above him, darting from the curved horns to the wrinkled wings and the tail curling around Markus’ waist as if for safekeeping. Connor bucked up, hot and wet, and wondered if there was something wrong with him that it all made him so much _hotter._ “Hurt me.”

“Aren’t you perfect,” Markus purred, with an aura of power draped over him like a cloak – like he had gravity, like his very existence had _meaning._ Connor whimpered, feeling the sharp tip of a talon drag down the flesh of his cheek and jaw. “I’m going to make you _bleed,_ handsome, and you’re going to like it.”

Connor could hear his pulse thundering in his ears. He whined softly as Markus dragged the backs of his claws down Connor’s throat, and then flipped his hand over and dragged them down Connor’s sternum, just barely hard enough to sting. Connor’s clit throbbed with need.

It was just a dream, after all; Markus was limited in what he could do.

“Oh fuck,” Connor whispered, forcing himself not to squirm as sharp talons scraped over his abs and down his stomach, making him want to twitch and gasp. _“Uhh,_ Markus…” His heart was _racing,_ fluttering in his chest, and his cunt burned against Markus’ cock. _“Harder.”_

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” Markus breathed, rocking down into Connor, deep and deliberate. “But shush, please, I’m going to take my time with you. Don’t rush me.”

Connor whined and nodded, almost dizzy with how turned-on he was. His hands kneaded into the covers, his hips squirming and flexing under Markus’ weight. He was hyperaware of the press of Markus’ ass against his thighs, and his breath was cold and dragging in his chest.

“Oh, you’re so pretty, darling,” Markus sighed, leaning down until he was nearly face-to-face with Connor, wings spreading as if for balance. His tail snaked out and curled lightly around Connor’s throat, not squeezing in the slightest, just brushing against it. Connor’s breath stuttered, and he felt the barest tip of a talon on his clit before it slipped away again, an instant before his hips twitched up. “Absolutely _delicious.”_

The last word slipped out of his mouth like warm syrup, almost a moan, and Connor had no choice but to arch up and rub himself against him, groin hot and throbbing. Markus groaned, bearing down on him with unexpected strength, and Connor whined under his glare.

“Please,” Connor whimpered, lightheaded with desire. “I want it so bad, I want to hurt, I want I want I-”

“Stop _rushing_ me,” Markus snapped irritably, and then he pushed two clawed fingers into Connor’s mouth, the deadly tips curling and scratching against Connor’s tongue, making his breath catch in fear. Connor moaned openly around them, muffled by their bulk, eyelids fluttering as he tongued the sharp points. Markus took a deep shuddering breath, grinding against him, heavy and sure. “Patience, gorgeous, I’ll get to it. You understand?”

Connor suckled dazedly on Markus’ fingertips for a few moments, distracted and overwarm, and then nodded meekly. Markus smiled at him, faint and dirty.

“Good,” he said, and then, “You like that, don’t you? You like my fingers in your mouth?” He pushed them deeper inside, until the pointed ends nearly scraped the back of Connor’s throat, so _close_ to choking him, and Connor whined. “I underestimated you, sweetheart, my mistake. I assure you it won’t happen again.” Pause. “I’m going to use a knife now, and you’re going to do to it exactly what you’re doing to my fingers right now.”

Markus’ eyes seemed to bore into Connor and penetrate him all on their own; the ram’s horns gave him an ominous sort of power, and his tail around Connor’s throat, just barely present… Connor’s hips tipped up, and he nodded again, fingers clenched in the bedcovers, eyes half-lidded with arousal. His cunt pulsed wetly.

Markus nodded back, and then pulled his fingers out of Connor’s mouth, trailing spit. He reached somewhere behind him, and when his hand was within Connor’s line of sight again, he twirled a knife in his hand – a beautiful, swirled Damascus blade with a wicked edge, gleaming in the light, a polished redwood handle just visible under Markus’ palm.

“Color,” Markus demanded, eyes heavy-lidded and lustful.

God, Connor’s chest _hurt_ with how fast his heart was racing, adrenaline coursing through him and his hips trying to move impatiently up against Markus’. He opened his mouth, ready and wanting, and Markus shoved their hips together hard enough to make Connor gasp.

“Color,” Markus repeated, breath heavy, cock throbbing.

“Greeeen,” Connor moaned, distantly aware of sweat gathering in the dip of his collarbone and trickling down his neck. “Oh fuck, Markus, green, I- just _yes.”_

Markus grinned at him, a leering thing with bared teeth, and then pushed the tip of the knife into Connor’s mouth, slow and deliberate, pressing it over his sensitive tongue. Connor groaned around it, his hard clit aching, and felt the sharp, cool edge press against the surface while he curled his tongue around it. Tension like fear gathered at the base of his skull, and his hips humped up against Markus again, searching and needy.

 _“Ohhh,”_ Markus groaned, as luxurious as if he was sinking into a bath, and not just pressing the knife further and further into Connor’s mouth, threatening to nick the back of his throat with the edge. “Such a good boy, baby, look how well you take this blade. Lap at it just like that, sweetheart, perfect. God, you make my cock _ache_ just looking at you, I want to sink it into you so bad. Would you like that, handsome? Would you like to suck on my knife while I fucked hard and deep?”

 _“Please,”_ Connor tried to beg around the knife, but the broad surface muffled and garbled the word, and Connor just ended up whimpering, hot and wanting. Markus chuckled, low and seductive and sweat trickled down Connor’s temple from the sheer adrenaline. His tail unraveled from around Connor’s throat, brushed over his cheek, and disappeared behind him again.

Then, slowly, he pulled the knife out of Connor’s mouth, trailed the tip down over the corner of his mouth, then his chin, and finally pressed it delicately against the throb of Connor’s thudding pulse.

Connor’s blood roared in his ears, the threat of terror looming over him, and he moaned loudly, holding himself rigid under the bared blade, eyes fixed on the angel kneeling over him. He could feel the edge just digging into the fragile skin, stinging but not burning, not drawing blood, not _quite._ But if Connor so much as breathed too hard, too quickly- anything more than the shallow pants his chest heaved around now-

“Beg me to fuck you,” Markus said quietly, voice rough with arousal.

“Oh please,” Connor groaned, overly conscious of the knife at his throat, breath coming in gasps. “Please, I’m so hot, I want to come on your cock, I’m so wet, I want you to tear me open and take me and mark me up, please please- ah- a- _ahhh…”_

He was cut off when Markus shifted without looking, cock rubbing tantalizingly along Connor’s soaked slit, and Markus choked out a moan over him, looking almost entranced by the slide of flesh on flesh. Then Markus shifted again, and a third time, and on the third his cock slid easily into Connor’s slick passage, making him cry out as he was filled, a beautiful sort of fulfillment against the threat of the blade.

Overwhelmed tears gathered in Connor’s eyes, blurring his vision, and he tried desperately to rock up against Markus’ thick cock, rubbing hard against his inner walls. Markus’ hissed pleasure was a bonus, music to Connor’s ears, and the way Markus’ eyes slid shut for a moment, his grip on the knife slackening until it was no longer pressed right up against Connor’s jugular…

“Good boy,” Markus murmured, and the sound seemed to echo around Connor’s head like a stroke on his aching clit. Markus braced against the bed, and then started to rut into Connor, greedy and slow, like every inch was worth savoring. Connor whined, hazy, perfect heat threatening to overtake him with each thrust.

“You promised,” Connor managed at last, and he glanced down at the knife longingly.

Markus smirked. “I suppose I did,” he drawled, and his tail flicked out from behind him again and pressed against Connor’s clit, making him buck up and moan. And then, without faltering in his slow, deep rock, he brought the knife up to Connor’s chest.

Connor barely had time to start to brace himself before Markus slashed the knife across Connor’s sternum, quick and precise, and even then a half-second passed before it stung and burned across his chest, and blood started to bead up along the laceration.

Just a dream.

The two of them groaned almost in unison, and Connor arched up, trying to press closer. Markus pressed him back down immediately, a heavy hand pushing against his waist and thrusts getting deeper and harder, each one slamming into him hard enough to make a muffled slap. Markus leaned down and lapped at the wound, smearing the blood over Connor’s chest, and then stretched up to kiss Connor hard, and Connor tasted his own blood and moaned shamelessly, shifting just enough to hook his knees around Markus and try and pull him closer, harder, _more-_

The spiked tip of Markus’ tail pushed harshly into Connor’s clit, and at the exact same moment, without pulling away, he dragged the knife across Connor’s abs, just as quick and shallow as the first. Connor cried out, the sound muffled by Markus’ tongue and his whole body jerking, heat searing through him from head to toe.

“Oh,” Connor whimpered against Markus’ lips, tears starting to leak from the corners of his eyes, sweat dampening his forehead. “Oh, oh-”

Markus groaned, grinding his cock into Connor’s cunt, hungry and eager, and finally pulled away to pant. “Color,” he rasped, hot breath spilling over Connor’s face, mismatched eyes half-lost in desire.

“Green,” Connor promised, trying to buck up into Markus desperately, wanting to rub his cock against that perfect spot in his cunt and loving the way his flexing muscles made the long slits in his torso sting and trail hot liquid down his stomach. “Markus, please, I’m so close, please, it’s good- just, just a little more.”

“I can do a little more,” Markus murmured, hot with promise, and he took the knife to nudge it against the skin a little lower, somewhere on Connor’s stomach. Connor whimpered, and the spiked tail stroked over his clit again, sending a wave of heat over him and making his hips twitch up. “Beg.”

 _“Please hurt me,”_ Connor begged, and Markus smiled, wings rustling behind him, horns gleaming in the light… and he dragged the knife, terribly slow, across Connor’s stomach.

Connor gasped, and then gasped again, eyes sliding shut as his head tipped back, hyperfocused on the achingly slow sting of the knife’s progress across his stomach, the liquid heat beading up and trickling down his stomach, the cock still pumping in and out of his overheated cunt. The heat filling his body, the foggy feeling in his head, the smooth tail stroking and teasing his clit.

“Ah,” he gasped out, dizzy and sweaty and overwhelmed. “Ah- _ah-”_

Above him, Markus groaned and came, rutting into Connor with deep, greedy motions as he spilled, tail still rubbing coaxingly at Connor’s swollen clit. Connor shivered, groaned, and then, in a few short, sharp jerks that didn’t even come close to betraying the wave of electric ecstasy that overtook his body, came too, moaning unrestrainedly.

He barely even noticed when Markus dropped next to him, panting but he did notice the kisses Markus laid on his shoulder and neck, the murmured praise, the way all signs of his demonic form had faded away-

“Perfect, Connor, you did so well,” Markus murmured into Connor’s jaw, nuzzling up into it and laying another kiss on his throat, stroking gently over his chest. “You were so good and still and responsive for me, just breathtaking, Connor-”

Connor took a deep, shivery breath, tilting his head up, and let himself be overwhelmed by Markus’ warmth. He wondered if it would be going too far to ask what had set Markus off.

Instead of trying, he let himself melt against Markus, the other man’s clawless fingers instantly going up to run through his hair.

It was-

God. It was so nice.

* * *

Connor woke up in the morning with red spots on his sheets, tangled and smeared.

For a brief, panicked moment he thought his body had abruptly started to kick-start menstruation again – it happened occasionally – and then he felt a harsh sting across his stomach, reached up, and felt blood there too.

Of course. Of course, he’d forgotten- he’d forgotten the _bruises,_ going from dreams into reality, and of course the cuts would too-

God. God, he’d let Markus hold a _knife_ to his _throat,_ sharp side down.

Connor let out a soft, choked sound of rough arousal, and then slid his bloodied fingers between his thighs again and started stroking, melting back into the pillows as heat bloomed in his gut anew.


	10. Aphrodisiacs

Technically, Connor knew that Markus had a life outside of dreams; that much had been clear from Hank’s account of having met him, and of course the last incident when something had wound him up almost to breaking.

That said, it was still a surprise to see him across the bar, flirting with a waitress and a drink in his hand, smile bright and eyes gleaming.

Connor himself didn’t go to bars often, of course – the time was better spent studying or sleeping, or attempting to do one of those things. Being unproductive always made him uncomfortable, irrationally certain that he’d be caught out and berated for wasting time that could be put to better use.

But. Simon had asked him to. Said that with Connor’s mental health improving, he might want to try and celebrate the end of the academic year, and Connor…

Well, Connor liked Simon, and he wanted to try to be helpful.

Connor smiled a little, because while Simon had noticed Connor starting to improve again, Connor hadn’t exactly elaborated on what had changed – had, in fact, made the conscious decision not to once Markus explained himself. He knew Simon was curious, but he wouldn’t push; he was kind that way.

Nothing that would last forever, of course. Connor needed to cooperate eventually.

Shaking his head at himself, Connor signaled the bartender quietly and waited for her to notice and come over. The least he could do, he thought, was buy Markus a drink in gratitude for all the good nights he’d had.

The bartender snorted when she heard his request, eyes glittering in amusement. “Man never has to buy his own drinks,” she said wryly. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

“That’s fine,” Connor assured her, and with a nod, she went to go talk to Markus, pausing on the way to talk to another patron that had called for a refill.

Markus looked over as soon as the woman explained, eyes bright with interest. Surprise flickered across his face when he met Connor’s eyes, and Connor gave him a small smile and saluted him with the drink Connor himself was nursing, a half-finished gin-and-tonic he’d stuck by staunchly since Nines first shoved one into his hand.

To his surprise, though, Markus immediately got up, spoke to the bartender, whose eyebrows rose, and then wove gracefully through the crowd to slide into the seat right next to Connor with an easy confidence.

“I certainly didn’t expect to see you around,” Markus said flippantly, leaning on the bar counter to give Connor a downright enchanting smile. “Have a good night last night?”

Last night Markus had bent Connor over and licked and bitten at his ass until he was begging for Markus’ cock. Connor flushed lightly, but didn’t look away, nodding instead.

“I thought the least I could do was buy you a drink,” he said quietly, unable to keep the soft apologetic note out of his voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you needed to come talk to me.”

“I don’t talk to anyone I don’t want to, handsome,” Markus chuckled, and then he leaned over and pressed a dry kiss to Connor’s cheek, and Connor froze.

When Markus pulled away, Connor swayed towards him just a little, unable to help himself. The spot where Markus’ lips had brushed him burned with heat, and Connor wanted to shiver. His eyes flicked down to Markus’ mouth for a split second, and when he looked back up, Markus was smiling knowingly.

Markus reached up, caressed Connor’s cheek, and asked lightly, “You want to finish your drink and take this to your place?”

Connor finished his drink and leaned over to kiss Markus before the alcohol had even cleared out of his mouth. Markus hesitated for a split second, and then opened his mouth, letting Connor nip lightly at his bottom lip and deepen it, tasting Markus’ mouth for what felt almost like the first time.

Ten minutes later, they were out of there. Markus hailed a taxi, Connor gave the address, and the next minute Connor was climbing into Markus’ lap, grinding lightly against his thigh.

His blood was burning.

“No idea what you do to me,” Connor breathed, bending just to nip and lick at Markus’ throat and listen to him hum in pleasure. “How you can just smile at me and touch me like it doesn’t matter when…”

It was so _much,_ was the thing, Markus’ warmth and Markus’ presence and Markus’ hands so steady on his hips, his breath on Connor’s face, the smell of him and the static of his touch and _everything,_ it was so much.

It was _wonderful;_ it was intoxicating.

He cut himself off, swallowed, and leaned up and kissed Markus on the mouth again, hips rolling into him, panting hotly. Markus opened up easily enough, groaning into their mingled breath, and their tongues rubbed together dirtily enough to make Connor whimper.

“Markus,” he choked out, hips stuttering forward. He could feel Markus’ cock on his thigh, half-hard, but it wasn’t _enough,_ Connor’s blood was boiling and he was wet enough to start leaking through his pants any moment.

Markus’ hands slid up Connor’s shirt, and Connor groaned, shuddering and satisfied, arching against him to press into his touch.

“Hold on, handsome,” Markus murmured, stroking Connor’s overheated skin even as Connor buried his mouth against Markus’ throat and worried at it, tasting the sweat there. “Just wait until we get to your place, alright, baby?”

Connor whined softly and forced himself to still, dimly registering that this level of arousal wasn’t normal for him – not so quickly, not after so little stimulation.

But God, he was so _hot,_ and his head was so cloudy.

He pressed his mouth to Markus’, and Markus kept his mouth tightly closed this time, keeping the kiss to a harsh, dry push even as Connor lapped tentatively at his lips. Connor gasped softly, hips starting to move against Markus’ again.

“Your saliva,” he concluded at last, foggily, panting against Markus’ mouth and opening his eyes to meet Markus’. “It’s…” God, there was a word for this, but Connor couldn’t _think._ “Is it making me horny?”

Markus laughed, short and breathy and surprised, and something about the sound made Connor moan, rubbing against Markus’ bulge, deep and needy.

He was so _wet,_ his underwear damp and squishing against his cunt, heat burning between his legs and a restless desire making him shift and hump against Markus, desperate like an animal, like he was _feral._

“Yeah,” Markus admitted with some embarrassment, hands rubbing and kneading into Connor’s ass, making him melt against the other man. “Is that okay? I usually avoid it, but since we have a history…”

Connor let out a soft, needy moan, leaning into Markus and pushing his hands up Markus’ shirt, skin sliding under his palms. “Mm-hm.”

The taxi trip seemed to take an eternity, even with Markus keeping up a stream of soothing, _dirty_ words as Connor tried to rub their bodies together, half-delirious with arousal, pants soaked through at the crotch. Markus was so warm, his hands steady on Connor’s hips, and then he started mouthing at Connor’s neck and he cried out quietly, shocks of pleasure shooting down into his clit.

“Markus, Markus yes,” Connor mumbled, gasping against his neck as Connor tried to ride the other man’s thigh, hindered mainly by Markus’ gently quelling hands, just slightly too strong to be natural. “Oh oh oh…”

He barely noticed when the taxi came to a stop and Markus paid the driver with a few apologetic words, but he did notice when Markus pulled him up and out, steering him into the building. Connor stumbled along, well aware of the dark spot around his crotch, and barely let the elevator doors close before he was on Markus again, mouthing at his neck and listening to his groans.

Too soon the elevator dinged, and Connor tugged Markus impatiently toward his apartment, tucked too far away into the corner. Pulled him inside, kicked the door shut behind them, pressed their bodies together again, and… paused, paranoia just briefly overtaking lust.

Connor wavered, swore viciously under his breath, and then pulled away just to do a quick circle through the apartment – windows, door lock, fire escape, all as secure as his distracted checks could ascertain.

God, he was _aching._ Every step seemed to rub his hard clit against his soaked underwear, and every time he stopped walking his thighs rubbed together like a child doing a bathroom dance, sparks of want shooting up his cunt. He could feel his pulse in his groin, throbbing wetly in time.

He wanted to fuck.

Markus watched with some bemusement, and maybe the subtlest shadow of an impressed expression, which Connor only barely noticed; instead, Connor set upon him as soon as he was done, flushed and wanton, and ground their crotches together without hesitation. He pressed his mouth against Markus’, and Markus let him in this time, letting Connor lick into his mouth, whimpering in need.

It felt so good, Connor’s body pushing against Markus’, head fuzzy with arousal, thoughts thick and liquid. Markus pushed his hand into Connor’s pants and fingered his swollen clit, and Connor moaned shamelessly, rolling into his hand. Sweat rolled down Connor’s neck, plastering his hair to his forehead, and he panted for breath.

“In there?” Markus asked with a small smile, tilting his head unerringly toward Connor’s bedroom door, eyes dark with pleasure.

Connor nodded, quick and desperate, and let Markus steer them over there. Somewhere along the way, both of them lost their shirts, and Markus was in the process of pushing down Connor’s pants when they finally tumbled onto the bed. Impatient, Connor rolled onto his belly and kicked them the rest of the way off, and then looked over his shoulder.

His cunt pulsed in time with his heartbeat, aching with need.

Markus grinned up at him, eyes glittering. Connor thought that he looked even prettier in person. “Get a little too worked up, baby?” he teased, reaching up to finger at the hem of Connor’s underwear. “You’re all soaked down here.”

Connor tipped his hips up impatiently. “Markus, _please,_ I want you so bad.” He was about five seconds from giving up and just spreading his legs and humping the mattress; as hot as he was, he thought he could come from that, too, rubbing his hot clit against the bedsheets.

But it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as Markus’ thick, hot, throbbing…

Markus pressed his mouth against Connor’s cunt through his underwear, and Connor whined, rocking back against Markus’ face before he could think better of it.

 _“Markus,”_ he begged helplessly, cheek crushing into his wrist as he wriggled against the other, feeling hot breath and a wet tongue and skilled lips work against his cunt through the thin cloth. “Oh God, oh fuck, Markus that’s so good, please-”

Markus lingered there for a few minutes, then pulled away exactly long enough to pull Connor’s underwear down, letting the lubricant stick and stretch between the fabric and Connor’s wet cunt, then tossed them away and… and stuck his tongue into Connor’s cunt, lips pressing against his clit.

Connor whimpered, hips grinding back without his say-so, chasing the pleasure of Markus’ lapping tongue. “Yes, that’s amazing, Markus Markus angel please yes-”

Heat built and built in his cunt, spurred on by Markus’ enthusiastic mouth, and Connor moaned unabashedly, sensitive skin being teased and tugged and licked and oh God, oh God he was going to come. Foggy-headed and overwarm and the air tingling across his sensitized skin, he was about to, about to-

“Ohh, c-coming,” he whimpered, twitching and jerking helplessly against Markus’ face, and Markus groaned appreciatively and lapped it up, tongue laving over Connor’s exposed cunt like it was a treat.

And then he stopped, leaned up, rubbed Connor’s shoulder reassuringly, and said, “Want to keep going, handsome?” and Connor realized that he’d finished coming but his arousal hadn’t abated at all.

Far past shame, Connor nodded desperately, canting his hips back against Markus’ hard cock, rubbing his wet cunt along the shaft.

“Please fuck me,” he panted, head down ass up, staring dazedly over his shoulder at Markus and wiggling his ass like he was desperate for it. “God, Markus, angel, please, I’m so fucking horny, I need you so bad, I need your _cock_ in my _wet little-”_

Markus laughed, rocking against Connor and cutting off his rambling with a pleasured moan as his shaft rubbed along Connor’s vulva.

“I think I might’ve let you kiss me too much,” Markus noted, not sounding too bothered as he casually humped Connor’s cunt hard enough to make him moan dazedly, melting with pleasure. “But God, are you lovely like this.”

And then he pulled back, making Connor moan in protest, and something rustled; Connor looked over, found Markus rolling a condom onto his _thick, pretty cock,_ and wriggled impatiently, burning with arousal. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek.

“Markus, _please,”_ he whined, panting for breath and hips swaying back and forth, trying to rub along a cock that just _wasn’t there, dammit-_

Markus finished rolling the condom on, chuckling softly, and then rocked forward again, adjusted the angle of his cock, and in the next moment, he sank into Connor, latex sliding easily into his slick cunt. Behind him, Markus groaned softly, hips snapping against his ass. Connor let out a startled wail, soft and choked, his whole body jerking back onto Markus’ cock and his heartbeat throbbing erotically in his cunt.

 _“Ohh yes,”_ Connor moaned, grinding against Markus’ cock, cheek tucked into the crook of his elbow. “Markus- _Markus-”_

God, he felt thick and slow and hot, and it was so fucking _good._

Markus groaned, starting to thrust a little faster, cock rubbing into him and against his walls, massaging him just right in all his perfect sensitive places-

“You feel so good on my thick cock,” Markus rasped, hips pumping quick and hungry, driving mercilessly into Connor’s trembling body, his hands dragging Connor closer by the waist. “You’re so wet and eager for me, and you moan so sweet, Connor, you sound so _fucking_ happy to fall apart on my cock.”

Connor nodded dazedly, rocking back against Markus’ thrusts. “Yeah, yeah, feels so good, Markus, feels so-” His words dissolved into another moan as Markus ground his cock into him, hard and deep, and he whined.

“You’re so relaxed when you’re drugged up and horny,” Markus cooed, laughing a little as he hiked Connor closer. “I knew all you needed was a really good fuck, Connor, sweetheart, and look at you, all melty and pleased and silken-tight around me, so _damn good-”_ He paused for a split second, and Connor could almost hear the smirk before he tacked on, “Such a good boy.”

Connor moaned, his whole body swaying back into Markus as his body pulsed with heat, his cunt gushing slick around Markus’ cock. _“Ohh,”_ he whimpered, shuddering. “Markus, please, angel, I want…”

“Am I neglecting something, baby?” Markus crooned, a little too smug. “Am I neglecting your hard little cock?”

“Uh-huh,” Connor choked out, rocking back, full and hot and sweat rolling up his back and soaking his hair and he wanted, wanted- Markus reached down to stroke either side of his clit, and he gasped, blissed out. “Ahh, Markus!”

“Oh, sweetheart, the things you do to me,” Markus groaned, and sped up a little more, rhythm starting to stutter. “You wanna come again, baby? You wanna come hard?”

Connor nodded desperately, hips snapping back against Markus, careless of how loud they were being. “Yes, please please please- harder, rub me harder, Markus-”

Markus rubbed him harder, fingers grinding into his mound on either side of his clit, and reached up and pushed him further into the mattress. Startled, Connor cried out and shook apart under the waves of pleasure, distantly feeling Markus’ pace shatter over him, cock twitching, as he came too.

Only a few panting moments passed before he felt Markus slide out, whimpered in protest, rolled over, and spread his legs again, meeting Markus’ eyes pleadingly. Markus laughed, rolled on a new condom, and pushed back in, and Connor shuddered, head tipping back in relief.

* * *

An unpleasant surprise: Connor woke up two hours after going to sleep, images of gaunt faces and thin fingers and kwashiorkor strobing behind his eyes like disco lights. He barely made it to the bathroom before he was heaving, braced against the toilet and gasping for breath as his food made a reappearance.

Children. Children. Goddammit, those had been _children._

Connor spent half an hour in front of the toilet, retching off and on even as the exact images of the night slipped out of his mind and rejoined his legion of memories. The porcelain was cool against his cheek. Soothing.

He got up and took a shower, steamy and long. Then, not in the mood to bother his angel by climbing back into bed, he grabbed his home-bound silicone chew necklace – an incongruously playful little thing, shaped like a chocolate donut and textured with cute little sprinkles – and took it from his nightstand and into the living room.

He curled up on the couch, stuck the stim toy in his mouth, and turned on the television, staring blankly at the sitcom that started playing.

(Children, children, children.)

Connor chewed on the toy, stared at the television, and rocked quietly, trying his best to tune out his own brain like Simon (and more importantly, Nines) had asked him to.

It didn’t work very well.

He stayed there, though, letting the TV shows pass in front of his eyes, stimming quietly. Eventually, the sun came up, and birds started to chirp outside the window, loud and clear.

A thought drifted vaguely across his brain.

_God, I’m tired._

He bit down on the thick silicone toy, changed the channel to a true crime series he actually liked, and kept watching.

At a little after eight in the morning, much earlier than Connor had been expecting, Markus came stumbling out of the bedroom, yawning and rumpled. He gave Connor a grin when he spotted him, stretching a little in place.

“If you didn’t live here I’d’ve thought you’d left without saying goodbye,” Markus yawned, making a halfhearted effort to cover his mouth. “Morning, handsome. Sleep well?”

Connor hummed noncommittally, rubbing his cheek against the back of the couch.

“Do you eat regular food?” he asked instead of answering. “I can make breakfast.”

Markus looked first surprised, and then pleased, giving him a warm smile that Connor returned almost involuntarily, small and tired.

“I do, actually,” Markus said warmly. “But I can pick something up on my way home if it’s too much trouble.”

Connor shook his head, dropping his donut discretely under his shirt and getting up with a faint wince as his muscles stretched. “No, it’s fine. Do you like omelets? I think I have some eggs and bacon and maybe some cheese.”

“Sounds perfect,” Markus assured him, and followed him into the kitchen, hauled himself onto the counter, and chattered while Connor worked, twice offering to help in between anecdotes and questions.

It was- well. It was better than sitting alone.

Much better.

“Not going to eat?” Markus asked, surprised, when Connor handed him his plate and started putting his food away. Connor shook his head wordlessly.

He wasn’t hungry, and he didn’t deserve to eat anyway.

(They traded numbers before Markus left.)


	11. Sex Toys

First Connor managed an hour of sleep. Fell off the bed, hit the floor rolling, and brought up a gun he wasn’t carrying to shoot down a shadow that wasn’t even human-shaped, hyperventilating and wide-eyed. It took him nearly twenty minutes to remember he wasn’t in enemy territory that first time, and he knew it was going to be a bad evening.

Then he slept for half an hour. He woke up sometime around sunset, disoriented and panicked again, unable to distinguish whether the deafening bang had been his dream, or something outside, or some horrible combination of the two, and it was forty-five minutes before he settled down enough to try and pass out again.

An hour and a half. He didn’t even try to make it to the bathroom, retching over his bedroom trash can and letting bile splatter into the metal bucket. Tried to forget disease and infection and sand-raw wounds faster.

Ten minutes. He woke up screaming, cheeks wet with tears.

And that one- that one was all Amanda.

Connor wondered if it was karmic justice, that he found it so hard to sleep these days. Fate’s answer to the sleep deprivation he’d coldly inflicted on-

On people who really hadn’t deserved it.

Connor gave up on sleep that point, heart going at a thousand miles per hour and far too restless to lay down again. Instead, he paced, straightening out the little mess that had gathered in his apartment since the last time he’d done this. He wondered if- if maybe he could call Nines- but he didn’t want to worry him-

His phone vibrated, and he nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around and stumbling a little, hand slamming onto his chest to try and force it to calm down.

Met with limited success.

 _Open to a pick-me-up?_ his phone screen read – a message labeled as being from Markus. He’d set the picture as a pair of black feather wings, small and stylized.

Connor hesitated, and then called back. Markus picked up in seconds.

 _“Is that a yes, handsome?”_ Markus asked him, voice warm and pleased. Connor hummed, distracted, and then realized that wasn’t much of an answer.

“Anything,” he said wearily, leaning back against the wall. He had to resist the urge to bang his head against it, head fuzzy for a much less pleasant reason than was usual around Markus.

They’d started meeting in person rather than through dreams lately, Markus calling him up on Friday nights and visiting his house. Connor enjoyed those nights, of course, sex with Markus was _amazing_ and he loved to be helpful to his angel and he adored the man for how sweet he always was _–_ but God. Summer was half over and he wanted to sleep.

He wanted to stop dreaming of the dead and dying.

 _“It’s an ‘anything’ night, is it, monsieur?”_ Markus chuckled, and then dropped his voice into a familiar purr. _“Well, what are you wearing?”_

Connor had to hold back a borderline hysterical laugh. Sins and nightmares crawled up and down his spine, forcing his breath out of him in a shudder, and he reached up to rub his face. “Boxers, Markus. I’m wearing boxers.”

 _“Stripping down early tonight,”_ Markus hummed playfully, surreally, and Connor tried to focus on his words but it was so _hard. “Mind palming yourself through this boxers for me, darling? Tell me what you feel down there.”_

Halfheartedly, Connor dropped his hand between his legs, rubbing into the crease there. “I don’t know, Markus. Cloth. A vulva.”

 _“A lovely vulva, I remember,”_ Markus said warmly. _“You know how to tease it best, I bet, why don’t you give it a go and tell me what you’re doing?”_

God, this had been a stupid idea. Why had he agreed to this? He didn’t have the focus for it right now, he wasn’t helpful, he was just- Fuck, Connor was dumb. Desperate and dumb.

Pause.

 _“Connor,”_ Markus said at last, gently enough to make Connor flinch. _“You don’t seem to be particularly into this. Do you want to do something else?”_

Connor swore viciously under his breath, dropped back over the bed, and curled up onto his side. “I’m sorry, Markus, I’ve been having nightmares all evening. I can’t, I can’t focus, I can’t-”

 _“Shh,”_ Markus soothed instantly, making Connor fall silent, breathing hard. _“That’s fine, I understand. Do you want to hang up right now and forget I called, or just talk for a while, or do you want to come over so I can try and help you forget?”_

Connor’s throat was thick. “That last. Please.”

_“Alright, Connor. I’ll give you the address, you can take a taxi.”_

“…Thank you.”

“Pick three,” Markus instructed, spreading out the contents of his toy chest on the thick covers of his large, almost luxurious bed. Connor looked from the bed to Markus to the bed, and then gestured helplessly. Markus gave him a small, fond smile. “Don’t worry, gorgeous, I promise I’ll figure out how to make it good no matter what you pick.”

Connor bit his cheek, but he hadn’t come this far just to completely ignore Markus’ suggestions. He picked out what he recognized as a rabbit vibrator, and then, with a little more hesitation, something that seemed to be an anal plug, on the small side of what Markus owned. Connor dithered around for a few more moments, trying to narrow his focus to his options and nothing else, nothing _not present,_ and finally tangled his fingers into a small, delicate chain with clips at the end.

Markus purred.

“Oh, it’s going to be a good night, sweetheart,” he promised, and then started putting things away again. “You want a normal lube or something special? I’ve got a couple types.”

Connor shrugged. “Anything,” he repeated, and Markus paused just long enough to give him a sympathetic look, then tossed him a bottle that Connor caught without thinking.

“Try that on the inside of your wrist and tell me what you think,” Markus instructed, and Connor obeyed.

It made his wrist tingle coldly, startling and distracting him more than almost anything else had that night, and he told Markus so, staring at the wet spot with blank bemusement.

“But do you dislike it?” Markus prompted. Connor shook his head. “That’ll do, darling. Can you strip down and lay down on the bed for me?”

Connor obeyed, clambered into the bed, and turned around. By the time he looked, Markus was almost done doing the same, just tossing a couple condoms onto the covers for good measure.

It turned out that outside of dreams, Markus was perfectly meticulous about safe sex practices. It would be funny, if it weren’t so completely Markus.

Markus climbed in after Connor, sitting beside him with an unselfconscious sort of ease. Connor leaned back on his hands, wary and unsure; his heart wasn’t racing anymore, but his head was cloudy with a nameless and visceral sort of malaise.

Markus’ mouth was so pretty. His _eyes_ were so pretty, intensely bright and narrow with concentration.

“Ease up, handsome,” Markus coaxed, placing a hand on Connor’s chest to encourage him down. Hesitantly, Connor dropped from his hands to his elbows, and then, when Markus didn’t let up, finally flat on his back, awkwardly staring up at Markus. Markus smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Connor. This is fun for me. I love working out how to wind people up and make them _come.”_

His hand stroked smoothly, confidently down Connor’s stomach, easing off again before it reached his groin, and Markus leaned down to plant a brief, chaste kiss on his mouth, popping back up even as Connor leaned up into the contact.

“…Like a game?” Connor said uncertainly, dropping back down to nestle into the pillows. God, they were so _soft._ Softer than his bed at home.

Markus’ smile softened. “Yeah, more or less.” His hand rubbed hypnotic circles in Connor’s stomach, and Connor had to keep himself from closing his eyes and sinking longingly into the warmth of the skin contact. The other came up, trailed over Connor’s throat, and then cradled his cheek, the thumb pressing against Connor’s lips, stroking the bottom one steadily.

Distracted by the burn of fingers on his cheek, the palm on his abs, the knee on his thigh, Connor opened his mouth without taking his eyes off Markus. Markus pressed his thumb inside without hesitation, and then pushed it further, down over Connor’s tongue. Connor sighed around it, feeling some of the tension drain out of him.

God. Connor liked Markus a lot.

Markus smiled at him, nudged under his chin, and waited for Connor to tip his head back before pressing a kiss to Connor’s throat, drawing a faint shiver and a sigh out of him. He made his way down Connor, eyes closed in focus, and hovered for a moment over Connor’s chest before kitten-licking a nipple, as languidly as if he were tasting it. Connor hissed.

“Good?” Markus prompted, opening his eyes to tilt his head up at Connor expectantly. Connor bit his lip, then nodded. “Good. Don’t forget, baby, this is just a warm-up. We’ll get to wrecking you soon enough.”

“I trust you,” Connor said without thinking, weary and exhausted and unable to stop himself before he thought better of it. He swallowed, spread his legs a little, and tacked on, “What do you need from me?”

For a moment, Connor thought that Markus looked almost fond, but that couldn’t be right. Then the man pressed another long, sucking kiss on his nipple, scraped his teeth over it, and smiled at Connor’s shiver.

“Just focus on me, sweetheart,” Markus cooed, reaching for something out of Connor’s line of sight and then dripping something cold and liquid onto Connor’s cunt.

Connor hissed, hips twitching slightly at the unexpected touch of lubricant, but he was almost immediately soothed back down as Markus’ fingers went to Connor’s cunt and rubbed it in smoothly, brushing it over his t-dick and into the crease below. Connor tried not to squirm, and then, involuntarily, hissed again as the area suddenly chilled under the touch, making him hyperaware of it, and _sensitive._

Markus smiled at him. “That’s it, precious,” he murmured. Then he kissed Connor’s nipple again and pushed his fingers inside, expertly opening Connor up and pressing more of the cool lubricant inside.

Connor whined softly around Markus’ thumb, the cold tingle a shocking sort of distraction deep in his cunt, making his hips flex against Markus’ hand. And God- God, that was _exactly_ what he’d wanted. His fingers curled into the thick comforter, tugging lightly as he processed the feeling, and his head tipped against the palm that cupped it.

“That’s better,” Markus crooned, looking faintly smug. He rubbed Connor’s cheek briefly, then pulled his hand away and scooted down, and Connor pushed himself up a little to watch Markus work. “Have you ever put anything in your ass before, handsome?”

Connor hesitated, and then nodded slowly. “Nothing more than a finger,” he warned. “I don’t buy… sex things.” Lubricant, vibrators, even condoms – he’d looked at them, sure, once or twice, but there had always been more important things to consider.

“That’s fine, baby, I’ve worked with virgins,” Markus reassured him with a small smile, pleased enough to make Connor smile sheepishly back. “I’m gonna work you up a little more before I get to that, just lie back and feel good for me, honey pop.”

“Honey pop,” Connor echoed, a small bite of amusement in his voice, and then compliantly melted back again, watching Markus. Markus drizzled a little more lubricant over Connor’s cunt, and then took the vibrator, slipped a condom over it, added some there too, and started rubbing the tip idly over Connor’s lower lips and t-dick. Connor bit his cheek. “Won’t you – _mm_ – won’t you have to wash the sheets?”

“Oh, definitely,” Markus said agreeably. “I do it at least once a week, they get dirty fast.” He leered playfully, and Connor almost laughed, surprising himself, even with the sick weight still choking his chest. “How do you feel, handsome?”

Connor assessed himself, and was surprised to realize he was… warm. The chill in his cunt was sharp and erotic, and he was starting to ache with want, exacerbated by the slow massage of the still vibrator between his thighs; his nipples were hard little nubs, and there was a faint burn in his gut. His clit was hard under its hood, pressing against the skin.

He glanced down between Markus’ thighs to the half-hard, unattended cock there.

He looked back up at Markus’ expectant face and blurted out, “Can you put it in?”

Markus’ face split into a grin. “Only because this is far from the main event,” he chuckled, and then, slowly, eased the toy inside Connor’s cunt, making him tense and shudder around it, rocking down. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how good you look.”

Connor let out half a choked moan, preoccupied with the erotic chill and the fullness in his cunt and the tickle of the rabbit ears over his clit, eyes sliding briefly shut so that he jumped harshly when he felt hands on his nipples, teasing the little nubs.

“Shh,” Markus soothed before he could speak, still focused on his task. “Just getting you ready, handsome, I want to make sure this feels amazing for you.”

Connor took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to clench around the vibrator and keep it from slipping out. “You always do,” he murmured, eyes wandering down to Markus’ hands before he could catch the man’s expression. “Do you- you said you have practice?”

“It takes a certain kind of experience to be a good partner to a wide variety of people,” Markus explained, still playing with Connor’s nipples, making his t-dick twitch at the top of his cunt. “You need to be flexible, good at reading people, willing to compromise… it’s a good skill to have as an incubus.” Connor could hear his smile in his voice. “Well. Half-incubus.”

Then, before Connor could do more than open his mouth to pursue the topic, he abandoned Connor’s chest, reached over, and clipped one clamp onto Connor’s nipple.

Connor arched with a silent gasp, his muscles flexing involuntarily and elbows digging into the mattress as pleasure shot down directly from his nipples to his clit, settling deep in his stomach. Markus grinned at him.

“You like it?” he asked smugly. Mind too clouded with arousal to care, Connor nodded, breathless and panting.

“Put the other one on,” he almost begged, and Markus smirked and obeyed. Connor whimpered, both nipples burning and the cold still coating his cunt like frost. His hips canted up, almost dislodging the vibrator. _“Ah,_ Markus-!”

His fingers scrabbled at the covers, and Markus laughed quietly, sliding down again.

“Oh, you’re lovely,” Markus sighed. “Such a _good boy,_ Connor.” Connor whimpered. “I’m going to take the vibrator out and put the plug in, how does that sound baby?”

Connor nodded quickly, panting and horny and _thoroughly_ distracted. “Please, Markus, I want it so bad. You’re so _fucking_ good, angel, please.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Markus purred, and then pulled the vibrator from Connor’s cunt. Connor whimpered at the loss, and then was distracted when Markus prompted, “Do you want me to use the cold lube or normal lube for this? The cold may be a little much your first time.”

“Cold,” Connor said, insistent enough that Markus barked out a startled laugh. “Please, a lot is- a lot is good.” His hips rolled down, slow and needy, and Markus’ expression softened.

“All in, are we, baby?” he murmured, and slicked up his fingers and started teasing Connor’s asshole, making him moan softly, feeling the chill spread. “I won’t keep you long, it’s just a little plug, but I don’t want to hurt you either. Gonna be so careful, honey.”

Connor let out a low whine, spreading his legs for Markus’ fingers as they prodded, one starting to ease in, slow and gentle. “You’d never,” he mumbled, focused on the chill and the clamps and the finger worming into him. God, it felt- it felt.

“Relax,” Markus coaxed, and Connor tried his best. “Yes, just like that, that’s so good, baby, good boy.” Connor’s breath hitched, coming dangerously close to a less erotic kind of whine, and Markus’ voice turned even more soothing in response, adding a second finger and rubbing indulgently into Connor, spreading him. “So good for me, Connor, just let me open you up nice and slow, there’s a good boy.”

Heat and pressure built into a soft knot in Connor’s gut, and he arched into Markus’ fingers, elbows digging down as he stretched and squirmed, moisture gleaming off his forehead and eyes fixed on the middle distance. Every motion made the clamps tug at his nipples, and he whimpered quietly.

“Markus,” he pleaded quietly, and Markus grinned at him and added a third finger. Connor tossed his head back and moaned, feeling Markus rub slowly back and forth inside him, scissoring and stretching him open. “Ohh! Oh fuck, please!” His hands kneaded into the covers, tugging and pulling, and he shoved them down now, shuddering. _“Markus!”_

Markus added more lube. Connor whined, clit achingly hard, and pushed his hips up desperately, face flushed with heat. God, he must be _dripping,_ except he couldn’t tell because there was so much fucking _lube._

“Alright, baby, alright,” Markus purred smugly, pulling his fingers out, and laughed at Connor’s hopeless whine. Then he fidgeted out of sight for a minute, and the next thing Connor knew, a slicked-up and latex-sheathed glass plug was pushing into him, slow and careful. “Is this what you wanted, handsome? Is this what you were so eager for?”

“Ohh, yes,” Connor whimpered, spreading his legs for it, feeling his cunt throb with need. His breath caught as the widest part slipped in, hips pressing down eagerly, and he reached up to play with his cunt, stroking impatiently. “Markus… _Markus…”_

“Gorgeous,” Markus hummed, and then batted his hand away gently, took the vibrator, and slid it in without hesitation. Connor moaned loudly, eyelids fluttering as he was filled up full, stuffed and aching between the two toys inside him and every tug on his nipples making his clit twitch erotically. “Oh, you’re such a good boy, taking so much for me, you’ve been such a sweetheart tonight. Are you ready for more, handsome? Are you ready to come?”

Connor nodded, the motion erratic with dizzying pleasure. “Yes, Markus, angel, please. Please, I want it so b- _a-aaahh!”_

Markus turned the vibrator on, and Connor bucked violently, his hands twisting into the covers for purchase. Pleasure shot all the way up from his cunt to his stomach to his spine, and he cried out shamelessly, tears starting to prick up in his eyes. The buzzing vibrator and glass plug seemed to push together, mashing sensitive, frosty nerves between them, the cold seeming to make everything reach twice as deep, and the clamps tugged harshly at his nipples, drawing out a sharp heat.

Connor gasped for breath, gasped again, and then registered the buzz of the rabbit ears over his sensitized clit, pressed just right against it, and whined loudly, hands twisting into the covers. His hips bucked and ground against the vibrator, forcing it against his burning g-spot, against his stiff t-dick, and fuck, God, he was, he was-

 _“Oh, oh, oh, coming,”_ he moaned, thrusting onto the vibrator with each word, and his hazy, blurry eyes met Markus’ entranced ones just as he came with a cry, shaking apart under the overwhelming cascade of sensations.

Even as he came, bolts of mind-blanking lust shooting through his whole body, the vibrator kept going, pressing into him, squeezing out every last spark until he was whining, still arching up into it. It was almost a minute before he settled, blinking tears out of his eyes, and Markus grinned at him, only turning off the vibrator as Connor started to twitch and whimper in discomfort.

His cock was rock hard, smearing precum against his stomach. He left the toy in.

“Feel better?” he asked, in a smug tone that said he knew exactly what Connor’s answer would be. Connor whined softly, breathless and exhausted, and Markus laughed, reaching out to push Connor’s sweaty hair out of his face. “I’ve always wanted to do that. From the first time I saw you, you looked like you needed something take your mind off things.” He gave Connor a fond look, fingers lingering on his head. “Turned out I was right.”

Connor had no idea how to react to that, so he did the first thing he could think of.

He rolled over, whimpering softly at the pull and tug of the toys, and then reached for Markus’ cock, grabbed it carefully, and licked a stripe up the bottom, relishing in the taste and weight of it.

Markus moaned.

“Oh, good boy,” he rasped, and tugged Connor closer. And Connor let him, eyes slipping closed again.


	12. Drunk Sex

Connor only remembered about half his twenty-seventh birthday in the end.

It was a good day, he knew; he and Nines spent most of it together, going out to lunch and then spending most of the afternoon in a public garden they both liked. Connor liked flowers more than Nines did, so they spent the evening in a natural history museum, Nines’ choice, and then had dinner together too. Connor chose lunch and Nines chose supper, and they had a good day.

And Connor was _numbingly_ exhausted for the entire thing.

Nines noticed, too, he was sure – he’d been clearly worried at times, but was just… too polite to call Connor on it. Considerate. No, instead he told Connor about his work, and asked questions about Connor’s classes, and he made sure Connor didn’t do anything too embarrassing, like walk into a pole.

It was Connor’s fault, of course; he hadn’t been able to readjust to his old sleep schedule again, not after getting used to the increased level of functioning he’d been granted by his angel’s dreams. Close to a year of better sleep had just… spoiled him.

But Markus’ needs were better fulfilled in person, and Markus seemed to have a marked preference for that. He’d even started inviting Connor over more, which was amazing. Connor had so few people that would seek out his company for any reason, so Markus’ interest was a luxury.

All the same, he was-

Well. Connor was whiny, was what he was.

Which was how he found himself in his living room at ten in the evening, with a freshly purchased bottle of rarely-indulged vodka, trying desperately to drown out the world long enough to _sleep._

The whole time, he mentally apologized to Nines. It had been a good day; Connor was just fucked up.

So Connor took a shot, and then another, a third, a fourth- didn’t lose count until he was over half a dozen in, and then took a few more, spitefully ignoring the awful burn of the alcohol in his throat.

And then, finally, blissfully, Connor passed out.

He didn’t realize at first that he hadn’t woken up; he let out a soft, disconsolate moan as soon as he opened his eyes again, reaching up to rub his palms into his face, close to tears in seconds. He was so… please, he was so tired.

“Connor?”

The angelic voice made him first freeze, and then look up, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Angel?” he blurted out impulsively, struggling to focus on the mismatched eyes that were, oh, suddenly a lot closer than they had been a second ago- or a couple of seconds maybe? Dismissing his confusion, he lurched forward and clung to Markus, burying his face in the man’s neck and relishing in the warmth, so sensitive to it he was almost shivering. “Angel, Markus, I’m sorry, sorry…”

His breath hitched loudly in his throat, and he whimpered as he felt Markus start stroking the back of his neck, instinctively comforting. Their naked bodies stuck together awkwardly, burning hot and electric.

“Connor?” Markus sounded alarmed. “What’s wrong? Are you… are you _drunk?”_

Connor sniffled and nodded against Markus’ neck. “Couldn’ sleep, I was tryin so mush bu’ I couldn’ sleep an’ I woke up an’ I fel’ bad an’ I was tryin’, Mar’us, promise promise.” Hot tears started to slip down his cheeks, burning and useless. “I was tryna sleep bu’ I don’ ‘member how.”

“Alright,” Markus soothed, hesitated, and then repeated, “Alright, Connor, do you need me to go and let you sleep? Would that help?”

Connor let out a dry sob, squeezing his arms tighter around Markus’ shoulders, squirming up to straddle his thigh and press himself against the angel. “No, p’ease don’ go, you’re- you’re warm, I wan’…” His breath hitched miserably, and he lost his train of thought. “I alway d’eam of ‘Manda on my bir’day, don’ wanna dream o’ Aman’a, I don’ wanna be grab or lock up or star’ kids or blow thing up, Mar’us, I don’…”

And he started sobbing again, pathetically keening into Markus’ shoulder, clinging to him like a lifeline. Markus, angel, Markus held him and rocked him and made soothing sounds until Connor quieted again, sniffling wetly.

“I’ll stay,” Markus promised quietly, holding so wonderfully tight onto Connor, warm and steady and so so _good._ “I’ll stay and you can just dream of me tonight, I promise, Connor. I’ll stay with you all night.”

Connor whimpered gratefully. “Oh, I love you, I love you,” he mumbled, pushing his head closer to Markus’ shoulder, trying to burrow into him. “You’re so pre’ty an’ nice an’ good t’me, I love you.”

Markus made more soothing sounds, and Connor felt hot tears slip down his face, breath catching and stuttering every minute or so as Markus held him. Markus’ hand continued to stroke the back of his neck reassuringly, occasionally brushing his fingers through his hair.

An eternity and a minute later, Connor finally settled down, breathing evening out as he rested his weight on Markus, cheek pressed into the crook of his neck and eyes most of the way closed in something close to sleep. It was around that time that he became aware of warmth between his thighs, Markus’ leg slotted neatly right against his pleasantly tingling groin.

Without thinking, Connor rocked his hips forward and moaned softly as his cunt dragged across Markus’ thigh, sending sparks of heat shooting up his groin.

“Oh, you feel good,” he mumbled, and then did it again, his t-dick twitching in interest as he humped Markus’ leg sleepily, chasing the stimulation. “Y’feel sho good, Mar’us.”

Markus hesitated for a split second before he started rubbing circles into the back of Connor’s neck, making him moan again. “Go on, baby, do what feels good to you.”

Connor noticed briefly how sad Markus sounded, but the thought was gone as soon as he jerked his hips again, rubbing his cunt and his hardening clit up against Markus’ thigh. He sighed, starting to rub himself against Markus in earnest, his cunt slicking up and beginning to smear over the skin. He turned his head and kissed Markus’ throat clumsily.

“You’re lo’ely,” he told Markus earnestly, nosing into his throat fuzzily. “You’re amazin’, you’re won’erful, mm… _uhn…”_ He took a deep breath, taking in Markus’ scent, and rubbed his cheek against him. “Smell good, _hah,_ want, wanna…”

He started squirming, but before he could work himself up, Markus’ hands were on his hips, adjusting his angle until he was groaning again, humping Markus’ thigh eagerly.

“Just like that, sweetheart, you’re doing great,” Markus soothed, and Connor whimpered, rubbing faster, soothing the amazing ache of his cunt.

 _“Mar’us…”_ Connor moaned deliriously, rutting on Markus’ thigh, eyes slipping most of the way shut again. His head was confused with intoxication and arousal, slow and stuffy and warm. “Mar’us, I’m wet…”

“I know, baby, you’re smearing all over my thigh.”

“Feelsh good, Markus…”

“Take as long as you like, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

 _“Ohhh…_ mmmm… _a-aah…!”_

“You’re doing great, sweetie.”

“Uhh, ’s hot…”

“You’re working yourself up real good, gorgeous.”

“Feelsh sho gooood…”

“Keep going, baby.”

“Markus, I’m, ahh, I’m gonna _coooommee…”_

“Good boy.”

Connor mewled, pace shattering into something erratic and broken as he shoved his hips into Markus, rubbing out every shock of orgasm his body allowed him. Markus’ hands guided his hips unerringly, helping him wring himself out, and finally, he settled again, shivering against Markus.

He looked up at Markus, tears and intoxication blurring his vision until he could barely see at all. “Stay?” he begged.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Markus promised softly, and Connor relaxed.

* * *

 _I’m so sorry,_ Connor texted Markus, the minute his hangover cleared up enough for him to realize what had happened.

He didn’t even remember any details – didn’t remember the words exchanged or his mistakes or even the sex beyond a vague impression of heat and skin – but he knew he’d made a complete mess of himself all over Markus. There had been crying.

There had probably been confessions of things Markus didn’t need to know.

His phone vibrated.

_It’s alright, Connor. I clearly caught you at a bad time._

Pause. Vibrate.

_And I’m glad I could help a little._

Connor groaned to himself, and instantly regretted it, his head pounding and nausea roiling in his stomach. He flopped back onto the couch, brooded for a moment, and then sent back, _Thank you. You were very kind._

Markus’ response took almost three minutes to come.

_You needed it. Can you drink some water and eat a little something for me when you’re up to it?_

That sounded like right about the last thing Connor wanted to do right now.

 _OK,_ he promised, and got up to fumble for a glass.


	13. Humiliation

The next week was on the awkward side; Markus seemed to be trying to give Connor space, and while Connor appreciated the thought, he desperately wanted to forget that the night of his birthday had ever happened. The more he tried to forget, though, the more obnoxiously he remembered, his shame threatening to crowd out him out of his own brain.

He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. Simon had _asked_ him not to do this, not to brood, but everything Connor tried, all the tools Simon had given him, just-

Connor just wasn’t really built to be happy.

The week after, Markus seemed to decide that enough was enough. In a… less aggressive way than Connor was accustomed to.

It was a dream again, like the week before had been; Markus seemed to have decided that Connor’s desperation was pathetic enough that the sacrifice was necessary, and Connor hadn’t yet worked up the strength of will to argue.

“You should know,” Markus said, tracing shapes on Connor’s chest with the tip of one finger as he laid on his chest, “that as an incubus I have a little bit of telepathic ability.”

Connor swallowed dryly, looking away as he felt his cheeks flare with heat. “Oh.”

He already knew where this was going.

Markus gave him a small, sympathetic smile, which only made Connor feel a little bit better after over two weeks of regularly fantasizing about Markus being awful and cruel to him in retaliation for his drunken clusterfuck. It had been more than kind of Markus not to mention it before now, it must have been horrifically uncomfortable-

“We can give it a go if you’d like,” Markus said, bringing Connor’s rambling thoughts to a halt, because that was not what he’d expected. “But we’d need to set some boundaries. More specifically, _you_ would need to set some boundaries.”

Connor blinked up at him, confused, and took a moment before he responded. “I wouldn’t want to make you do anything… strange,” he said haltingly. Uncomfortable, he meant.

Markus gave Connor another odd smile, like he found Connor cute. “It’s not strange,” Markus disagreed. “Done right, it can be pretty cathartic. You just need to set some rules in advance.” Markus considered Connor, and then added gently, “Of course, I won’t pressure you if you aren’t interested in acting it out for real.”

Connor bit his lip and tried to ignore the traitorous warmth already gathering between his legs. “You’re offering, specifically…?”

“I was thinking,” Markus said thoughtfully, “that I would push your face into the pillow and fuck you from behind, and I would insult you- we’ll set limits on that beforehand, of course, I don’t want to hurt you for real.”

Connor found himself mortifyingly relieved by that, considering how harsh some of his fantasies had gotten. “What about you?”

Markus gave Connor another smile, openly pleased enough to almost make Connor smile back. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t refer to me as a demon, and…” An apologetic edge crept into his voice. “That you not pretend you don’t want this. It’s not something I’m fond of with harder kinks.”

A flush crept across Connor’s face, but he nodded, hesitated, and confessed, “I… don’t know if there are limits on what I’d like.”

Markus looked sympathetic. “I understand, it can be hard to get the hang of, especially if you’ve never tried before. Can you set three hard boundaries for me, handsome? We can move them around later if they don’t fit.”

Connor grimaced a little, thought about it, and eventually said slowly, “Nothing… gender-related.” Markus nodded. “Um… nothing implying I’m out of control.” Nod, and Connor wavered, swallowed, and finished meekly, “Nothing about what I said before, when I was… when I was drunk.”

What a stupid limit that was, considering it was the inciting incident to all this anyway- and he didn’t even remember _what_ he’d said then-

“Of course,” Markus agreed instantly, cutting off Connor’s train of thought, and Connor relaxed despite himself. Markus reached up, brushing his fingertips over Connor’s cheek, and added, “And if at any point you start to dislike it, remember you can safeword, alright, gorgeous? This is supposed to be fun.”

Connor swallowed, for some reason borderline overwhelmed at the touch of tenderness, and nodded. “I’ll… try.”

“That’s all I ask,” Markus said warmly, and then made a little twirling gesture with his finger. After a second, Connor realized what he was supposed to do.

His heartbeat sped up, and he turned over and tucked his arms under his chest, and let his cheek fall to the pillow, ass up like a presenting bitch. The span of a breath passed by, and then another- and then, so slowly it almost didn’t hurt, fingers twisted into Connor’s hair and pushed his face against the pillow.

“Did you know that there’s no one else I visit every week?” Markus said, and Connor could have mistaken it for tender if it weren’t for the way it had dropped three octaves into something closer to menacing. “I didn’t realize you were such a _slut_ when I first saw you, assumed you’d be a one-and-done sort of visit… but you’re not. You’re a lot needier than that.”

Markus ground Connor’s face against the pillow, rubbing and twisting the skin of his face while Connor scrunched his nose against it, a small shudder rippling through him. His clit was already starting to stiffen, a blanket of embarrassment – at Markus’ words, at the situation, at the prone and vulnerable position he’d just _let_ himself be put into – settling over his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he breathed, quiet like a confession, when he realized Markus was waiting for a response. In return, Markus shook him by the hair, light and sharp. Connor swallowed his gathering saliva. “I… I _am_ needy.”

“You spread your legs for me every chance you got and then you begged for more,” Markus purred, tugging at Connor’s hair until he hissed. “I couldn’t help but give in, you know, you’re just so pitiful. And you are good for this one thing.” He pushed his hardening cock against Connor; Connor could feel the hot shaft against his ass, and it made him spread his legs subconsciously, starting to pant. “Your loose little hole makes a decent sleeve for me.”

Connor whimpered softly, hips pushing back involuntarily. God, why was this so hot? Why did he want so badly to be used exactly the way Markus was implying? Markus laughed, and the sound made Connor’s cunt _burn,_ imagining what he must look like, what he’d reduced himself to- God, a _fucksleeve,_ a _slut-_

“Angel,” he gasped out, bucking back against Markus’ hard cock. “Angel, yes, I want-”

“Are you this wet and desperate already?” Markus asked with delight, and Connor felt fingers brushing over Connor’s cunt experimentally, just brushing his aching clit, then reach up to smear the wetness on Connor’s cheek, leaving it slightly cold with his fluids, making Connor shudder. “You feel that? That’s how much you need my thick, pulsing cock in your cunt, isn’t that right?” Connor nodded frantically, swallowing his gathering saliva. “Tell me how much you like this.”

“I love it,” Connor breathed shamefully, rocking his whole body to feel his nipples on the covers and his cheek on the pillow and his hair tugging on his scalp. “I love being your cockslut, I love being under you, love being pinned down-” Like a butterfly to a board, vulnerable and exposed… Connor arched a little, rubbing back on Markus, trying to will him into his hot hole, and couldn’t keep the pleading note out of his voice. “I need it, Markus.”

“Yes, you do,” Markus murmured, his cock throbbing against Connor as he rubbed it idly between Connor’s legs. “You need my cock like burning, you filthy little cockslut.” And Connor had always imagined Markus’ voice as harsh for this, as cold, but God, he was tender and understanding and that was so much fucking _hotter._ “You’re hungry for it. Would you beg if I asked?”

“Uh-huh,” Connor choked out, hips humping back against Markus uncontrollably, and braced himself to beg, to obey, to be good-

“Priceless,” Markus laughed, holding still and let Connor rub his own hot cunt over Markus’ swollen shaft, tugging idly at his hair and applying a gentle, firm pressure to his head. “You’re no better than a fumbling teenager, are you? A fresh-faced virgin who doesn’t know what to do in a bed. It’s _adorable.”_

 _“Ahhhh,”_ Connor managed, his whole body arching under the force of his arousal, his clit bulging up and aching and sweat rolling down his temple. He panted for a few seconds, and then, at a tug of his hair, forced out, “Please, I’m desperate, I’m pathetic, I’ll do anything, Markus, please, I want you to fuck me, want you to use me like a toy-”

“Anything?” Markus crooned. Connor whimpered and nodded into the pillow, feeling his spit smear on it. “Then touch yourself and tell me how it feels. Tell me just how bad you need my cock while you stroke your hard little slut button.”

Surprise and arousal mixed into a hot pulse in Connor’s gut, and without hesitation he reached back and started stroking around his t-dick, feeling pleasure spark and swirl in his cunt.

“Feels good,” he croaked softly, rocking back so Markus’ shaft slid along his soaked slit. “I love stroking my stiff little cock for you, haven’t touched myself so much since I was first going on T, but you make me so horny and needy, Markus, I’m so sloppy ‘n wet, I’m a mess, I’m a dirty filthy whore…”

Connor could barely believe the dirty words dropping out of his mouth, half muffled by the pillow, and even a little saliva was leaking out as he rambled. It made his cunt burn harder, and sweat plastered his hair to his forehead and trickled down his back.

“But how do you _feel?”_ Markus pushed, and tears pricked at Connor’s eyes for no particular reason except that he was so _overwhelmed._

“Oh, it feels good,” he moaned, bucking into his own fingers, trying to rub harder, faster, without losing contact with Markus’ cock. “It feels so good, Markus, I’m hot and sweaty and my sloppy cunt aches so bad for your big hot cock, so empty, I can’t make my hips stop moving because I need you so fucking bad.”

“Don’t you beg and writhe so sweet,” Markus moaned, breathy and hot enough to make Connor whimper in need. “I bet I could leave you here and tell you to touch yourself without coming, and you’d still beg just as nicely at the end of the day. You’re so shamefully _wanton_ and so obedient for me, and you’re so _oversensitive_ and _loud._ In another house they’d be able to hear you from the street, begging for me like you’ll never get another cock in your life…”

Connor gasped for breath, humping Markus’ crotch like a bitch in heat, imagining it, imagining someone leaning against the wall, listening to him moan and cry, maybe, God, maybe stroking themselves out of sight-

He circled his hips back and whimpered pathetically.

“I bet I don’t even have to do anything,” Markus groaned, humping slow and languid into Connor’s frantic rubbing. “I can just kneel here and let you rub yourself all over me until I come on your back, and you would thank me for it, wouldn’t you, my stupid, worthless little cockslut? You’d thank me for the privilege of humping my big cock. You wouldn’t even ask to come.”

Connor broke and started crying, tears leaking down his cheeks as he bucked back, burning hot and sweaty and needy, still rubbing his clit with his fingers, desperate and wanton and messy. “Yeah, yeah, I would, I need it, I need your _cock-”_

“There’s a greedy little beggar,” Markus cooed. “I’ll give you what you need.”

Markus’ hands clamped down on Connor’s sides, and he choked on a moan- and then Markus’ cock pushed at Connor’s entrance, and Connor heard himself start whimpering in relief as he was filled, slow and steady.

“You’re so loose and sloppy for me,” Markus moaned behind him, pulling on Connor’s hair as he rubbed his cock lazily into Connor’s hole. “Oh, such a filthy little fuckhole, so hot around my thick, throbbing cock, you feel so fucking good. You’re gonna milk my heavy balls, aren’t you?”

Connor panted, breathless and dizzy, fucking himself on Markus’ cock the instant the other let go of his hips. God, he was acting so desperate, so needy, so _slutty-_ “Yes yes promise ohhh- I’m a slut, I’m a slut for your _fucking_ cock and I want it so bad-” Fuck, he was so _dirty-_

“You make the filthiest noises,” Markus purred, thrusting into him harder, faster, deeper, “Falling apart on my cock, it’s pathetic, you’re pathetic, crying because you love my cock so much, love being humiliated, love sex-”

Connor whined loudly, heard it all but echo around the room, his hips jerking desperately onto Markus’ cock, leaking saliva and tears onto the pillow under his face, head at an awkward angle and hair being pulled and tugged.

God, he must look so sloppy, so ruined, wanton and lecherous and needy and used-

“I’m gonna come,” he moaned, cracked and crying, listening to the mortifyingly wet sound of Markus slamming his cunt, “I’m sorry, you’re making me come, I feel so good and your cock is making me c- _come…!”_

Behind him, Markus let out an animalistic sort of snarl, and an instant before his own lust spilled over, Connor felt Markus fill him up, twitching and spurting- and then he came with a sob, mind whiting out with pleasure. Uncontrolled, he shoved himself onto Markus’ cock until every last drop of arousal was used up and wrung out and Markus was hissing and Connor was shaking and shivering, on the verge of collapse and still fucking crying.

And with the arousal purged from his body as if drained, he realized he felt, he felt-

And it was then, while he was still sobbing, that Markus tugged Connor to his chest, strong and steady, and crooned, “Beautiful, sweetheart, you’re such a delight, such a treasure, and it’s a privilege to play with you every time-”

Connor sniffled foolishly, soft and confused and pressing into Markus anyway, tilting his head up to stare blearily. “Ah…?” His voice cracked, and he didn’t manage anything else, but Markus just smiled at him.

“You didn’t think I was going to leave you with even a little chance of feeling bad, did you?” he teased, and tugged Connor closer, and kissed down one side of his head, butterfly-light. “Not when you’re so cute, and precious, and sweet and good and handsome and gorgeous…”

Connor’s breath hitched again, eyes slipping shut. “I don’t under, what are you…?”

“Aftercare, sweetheart,” Markus explained gently, sounding oddly unbothered by Connor’s ignorance. “If anyone needs it, you do.” Another soft kiss, close to Connor’s ear while he shivered. “I promise, I wouldn’t leave you crying on your bed, and you deserve so much better than anyone who would.”

Panting, still trying to force his breath to even out, Connor stared at Markus and wondered if anyone had ever cared for him this much. If anyone had ever been so- so _gentle_ with him.

Lost for words, he hid his face against Markus’ shoulder, and felt Markus’ hand come up to stroke his damp hair, exactly where he’d been pulling it earlier. It was gentle, and reverent, and God. God.

Connor had to hold back a whimper.

“You’re so good, sweetheart, you try so hard all the time and I promise it shows, I value you so much, Connor…”

After a while, Connor even found himself giggling, faintly giddy from the play and the praise and the contact and warmth and _Markus._ And when he pushed into Markus, seeking more, Markus didn’t push him away.


	14. Facial

Markus managed to catch Connor during his lunch hour one night. Connor tried not to wonder too loudly how Markus had known when to come, but he must have failed, given Markus’ guilty wince.

“I bribed your supervisor with food,” Markus explained, seating himself on the table while Connor kept half an eye on the security system; he’d had plenty of time to prepare, with all the warning. “He likes you a lot, so it wasn’t difficult.”

Connor cocked an eyebrow at Markus. Markus smiled sheepishly back. He pushed his food away and asked, “Is something the matter?”

Hank had mentioned that Markus’ shelter had a lot of disturbances, presumably from the unwanted exes; Connor found that he was more than willing to help if Markus needed it.

Markus shook his head, though, and pushed the food back to Connor. Connor resumed eating and listened.

“I ran a background check on you,” Markus said conversationally. Connor pressed his lips together tightly, pausing, and Markus held his hands up. “Nothing personal – I wanted to get a little more solid information together before I made this offer.” Connor blinked at him and tilted his head, and Markus’ shoulders loosened. “You seem a little overqualified for your current position.”

Connor took a bite. Nines always brought good leftovers for Connor to take to work, when he visited. “I’m not really interested in security work. It’s just until I’m qualified to practice veterinary work. Close your mouth, I’ve heard the vet vet jokes.”

Markus closed his mouth and grinned at him until Connor gave a small smile back, and then continued, seemingly relentless, “Have you considered transferring in the meantime?”

Connor considered.

He had, actually, thought about applying to the domestic shelter Markus happened to run as well. He’d been worried about being a disturbance in and of himself, though, given he passed quite well these days. But- if _Markus_ didn’t think so-

“…Is that an offer?” Connor asked, caught somewhere between guarded and wistful. He would like to be able to help, he thought – no one should live in fear of their family.

“Yes,” Markus said without hesitation, throwing one leg over the other and leaning back with seeming perfect confidence. “You, ah, you might be aware of the security issues inherent to a domestic violence shelter…” He trailed off, and Connor nodded. Markus smiled a little, warm. “And we have some security staff already, of course, but I for one would feel a lot more comfortable if you were around to help out. You seem like you’d be well-suited to it, to say the least.”

Connor wondered vaguely what in his record could possibly imply that, but he wasn’t going to question it. Markus probably had criteria in mind. “I’d like that,” he said without hesitation, “but we’d need to plan shifts around my classes.” Markus nodded, and looked expectant, even _eager_ enough that Connor continued, slow and halting, “I’d need to give my two weeks, and… I should talk it over with someone first.”

“Your therapist?” Markus guessed, and Connor flushed. Markus smiled at him gently. “Yes, that’s fine, I should have considered that. You’ll let me know what you decide, though?”

Connor nodded instantly, forcing his shoulders to relax even as he reprocessed the conversation, vaguely bemused. “But are you sure you want me working there? I’m…” He hesitated, and when Markus didn’t finish the thought, completed quietly, “Intimidating.”

Military vet, jumpy, six feet tall and passing. _He_ probably wouldn’t even be entirely comfortable with himself around.

Markus didn’t even hesitate, though. “Absolutely. I got the impression that you would-” He faltered for a moment, seeming to think better of his words, and his expression creased apologetically as he finished, “Understand.”

Connor winced, but there was no point denying it. “I… yes.”

“I promise not to work you up on the clock,” Markus tacked on, giving Connor a small, teasing smile.

After a moment, Connor smiled back faintly. “Unlike now?” he returned quietly, pushing his lunch away. He realized, with surprise, that he had finished it while he wasn’t paying attention.

“Are you admitting to being turned on?”

“I think just seeing you turns me on these days.”

“Heh. I can tell.”

Connor’s smile eased, and he considered the situation, glanced at the security display, checked the clock, and then the lockable door. Thought about it for a moment, and then asked meekly, “Can I suck you off?”

Which he supposed was something that you could only say so meekly.

Markus didn’t answer right away, and Connor felt heat creep into his face as he glanced over. Markus looked… vaguely gobsmacked. Connor had to smile again, soft and pleased with himself.

“Wh- _now?”_

“If you don’t mind,” Connor said with forced casualness, though he felt sure his sudden fidgeting gave him away, rocking on his chair and reaching up to play with his tie. “We haven’t, ah, haven’t tried it in the workplace yet.”

Damn his stumble.

Markus was quiet for another few moments, but when Connor glanced over this time he was grinning, eyes bright with amusement.

“Anything you want, handsome,” Markus crooned, seemingly on instinct, and Connor felt himself smile. Then he locked the door, checked the vents, and dropped down to his knees in front of Markus.

Markus immediately pushed his fingers into Connor’s hair, tugging in the gentlest way possible. Connor let his eyes slide half-shut, cheek tipping against Markus’ thigh in pleasure. He brought one hand up to stroke Markus’ cock through his pants, a rare indulgence he hadn’t yet tired of, and felt it twitch.

“I still have to think about it,” Connor said without looking away from Markus’ groin, watching the bulge start to grow visibly.

Markus tugged him a little closer, sighing in encouragement. “Of course, I expect nothing less. Nothing is conditional on your agreeing, I promise.”

Connor hummed, and on impulse, leaned closer and nosed against the growing lump. Markus’ breath caught, fingers tightening, and Connor smiled to himself. “I’m unlikely to be diplomatic with anyone who comes looking, particularly if they seem… overly persuasive.” Connor disliked being manipulated.

“I actually prefer it that way.”

Connor mouthed against the crotch of Markus’ pants, more and more of his attention slipping away from the conversation by the moment as the warmth in his body grew and swelled. He paused to mumble, “Would want intel.”

“Connor.” Markus’ voice had a ring of exasperation now. “We can do job negotiations when your mouth isn’t _a centimeter from my cock.”_

Connor glanced up at him, took in the fond curl of his mouth and the almost imperceptible flush of his cheeks, and then he smiled.

Then he neatly released Markus’ cock from his jeans, pulled it out, and licked the tip. Markus hissed gratifyingly and went back to stroking Connor’s hair.

“Just like I taught you,” he coached, a slight catch to his words.

Connor hummed his understanding, and then rocked forward to press his tongue between Markus’ balls, making him hiss and jerk a little in surprise. Yes, Connor had been doing a little research; he knew Markus had kept it… rather basic.

The hair at the base of Markus’ cock tickled Connor’s nose, and then he licked the underside of Markus’ cock and rocked back again, sliding his tongue against the hardening flesh even as Markus tensed. Closed his mouth around the tip, and sucked gently.

This was fun. Connor always liked having excuses to put things in his mouth, and the weight of Markus’ cock felt so _good_ against his tongue.

Markus let out a quiet, rough laugh, hand moving to cradle Connor’s head even as Connor’s braced against his thighs, squeezing gently. “How long have you been fantasizing about this?” he mused aloud.

Connor hummed vaguely, noting the way it made Markus hiss. Looking up from where he knelt, he could almost picture Markus’ tail flickering behind him.

He bobbed forward, wincing a little as the tip threatened to bump the back of his throat, and then pulled off to stroke the base a little and rub his cheek along the side, skin on sensitive skin, eyes still on Markus’ face. “…A while.”

God, it felt so _good_ just to be touched. He turned his head to kiss the side of Markus’ cock, awkward and unsure, and then licked back the tip, swallowed it again, and tasted musky salt, the flavor creeping down his throat.

Not a great taste, but it made heat shoot down his spine and his cunt tingle.

Markus laughed again, and Connor felt his fingers stroke through his hair again, tugging him closer. His knees ground against the floor and he rocked forward, taking as much as he could, feeling his lips stretch and the tip slide over the roof of his mouth again. Markus gasped.

“Good boy,” Markus murmured, voice catching slightly over the words.

Connor hummed in pleasure and rubbed his thighs together, stroking what his mouth couldn’t take and watching Markus’ expression crease in obvious lust. God, he was at _work –_ he was fooling around at work, sucking Markus’ cock instead of watching the system, and he was _enjoying_ it, even with the heavy taste in his mouth and the unfamiliar stretch.

 _Good boy,_ he echoed to himself in silent delight, and then bobbed forward until he gagged on Markus’ shaft, wrinkling his nose even as Markus let out a groan. His grip tightened on Connor’s head until he was tugging on Connor’s hair, and his cock throbbed against Connor’s tongue. Connor’s eyes slid shut, focusing on staying still even as his throat spasmed, trying to force the obstruction out and making his eyes water.

Connor stayed for just a couple of seconds, and then gave in and pulled off, coughing and shaking his head like a puppy, hand still pulling on the shaft of Markus’ cock absently. He swallowed a couple times, forcing his stinging throat to calm, and then glanced up to check Markus’ expression.

Markus’ eyes were dark with lust, and he was panting too, leaning his weight on his arms as he watched Connor. As he caught Connor’s eye, he grinned, eyes gleaming.

“You’re doing beautifully, handsome,” Markus rasped, as rough as if he’d been the one taking a cock down his throat. “God, you’re doing amazing.”

Connor beamed at him, and then dipped forward again to rub the hot head of Markus’ cock against his cheek, smearing something wet there, and further to nudge at the base again, mouthing at Markus’ balls through his jeans. Back down, and he tugged at it, licked the tip, and heard Markus groan again, low and long.

God, this was dirty. This was _filthy,_ and Connor was so wet, rubbing his thighs together under him. His clothes clung to him, too warm and too tight.

He took the head of Markus’ cock back in, and held back a whimper as Markus’ hand cradled his neck and urged him closer. When he looked up through his eyelashes, Markus’ expression looked almost hungry.

Connor hummed deeply, pleased, and Markus hissed and jerked him closer.

“Wonderful,” Markus praised, rubbing the back of Connor’s neck and hissing in arousal. “Fuck, wonderful, Connor, baby, you’re taking me so well, you’re such a fast learner. God, you’re amazing, a little more, sweetheart, a little deeper-”

Connor tried his best, just remembering to press his tongue to the underside and taking Markus until he gagged again, but only stayed for a moment this time before dropping back with a wince. He moaned in quiet frustration, and then again, longer and louder, when he saw how it made Markus’ face twist, head tipping back in a shuddering gasp of pleasure.

Connor squirmed. God, he wouldn’t have guessed that this could make him so _hot._ He wanted to touch himself, but he didn’t have enough hands.

It was probably good that he’d be turning in his two weeks soon.

He moved his free hand up Markus’ thigh to knead at the base through his jeans, and with the other stroked a little faster, listening to Markus pant and start to swear under his breath. A vein throbbed against Connor’s tongue.

Fuck, Markus felt so fucking good in his mouth. Even the musk of his precum was starting to taste nice. Connor whimpered.

“Shit, shit, Connor,” Markus started panting, swaying in place over Connor’s head, and then he pulled Connor closer, grip harsh.

Connor yelped, muffled and sharp, as his throat was suddenly stretched, and Markus let go with a quick curse. But Connor stayed, trembling faintly, staring up at Markus through watering eyes and gagging uncomfortably, for a good several seconds.

Then he finally dropped back with a gasp for breath and started jerking Markus’ shaft, mouth hanging open, flushed and flustered, and Markus swore again.

“Oh hell Connor, yes, yes, fuck, fuck I’m gonna-”

Connor closed his eyes, and a moment later felt something warm and sticky splatter over his face, making him moan softly, relishing it. It lasted for several seconds, spilling on his left cheek, his forehead, his lips and his nose, and then stopped, leaving them both panting into silence.

And God, Connor _loved_ it.

Half a minute passed before Markus gently pushed Connor back, and Connor felt him slide down in front of him before wiping away some of the wet spots closest to Connor’s eyes.

Then Markus pushed his thumb into Connor’s mouth, and Connor opened his eyes, looked at Markus’ half-lidded ones, and obediently sucked the come off.

It was musky and salty in the same way the precum had been, except even thicker; Connor didn’t love the flavor, but he _did_ like the way it made Markus’ eyes haze over a little and his own thighs warmer.

“You’re _amazing,”_ Markus sighed at last, smiling with an almost painful sort of sincerity, and Connor had to swallow, convulsive and abruptly overwhelmed.

It was Markus who was the amazing one, obviously. Connor was certain of that to his very bones.

He glanced away and mumbled, “Going to go wash my face.”

But he invited Markus to come along before he left, not bothering to hide the flush in his cheeks.


	15. Masturbation

Simon thought it was a good idea. This was a surprise.

“You don’t think it’s going to make me… worse?” Connor asked haltingly, vaguely dubious as he fiddled with the new silicone chew tag he’d gotten – a wine red replacement for the black one he’d broken.

“You’ve been having difficulty with personal fulfillment, haven’t you?” Simon returned, cocking one eyebrow in just the right way to make Connor smile and shrug, conceding the point. “This should help with that. It’s an excellent and very personal way to participate in the community, so if you want to give it a try, I’m behind you. Just be prepared to tackle anything the environment might bring up.”

Ugh.

Connor shrugged again, and hesitated for a few moments, bringing up the tag to chew on it anxiously. Simon waited, and eventually, Connor took the toy out of his mouth, said, “I already know the man who runs it,” and put it back in.

It seemed relevant, and he wanted to know what Simon would make of it. Connor thought that, maybe, it would be helpful. To have that reassurance at hand.

To his surprise, Simon perked up instantly and graced Connor with a warm, pleased smile. “Markus?” Connor blinked and nodded, tilting his head in question. “He’s a friend of mine, he tends to contact me to help out at the shelter. I didn’t realize you’d met.”

There was an inquisitive undertone to the last sentence that made it tilt up at the end, and Connor considered briefly.

“We’ve been sleeping together,” Connor answered at last, and then put the silicone tag back in his mouth to avoid looking at Simon. Considered what he knew of Markus’ lifestyle, reluctantly removed it again, and added, “I _am_ aware it’s not exclusive.” Simon looked unmistakably relieved. Connor smiled a little. “He’s, ah, a significant part of why I’ve been sleeping better lately.”

There was no flash of realization across Simon’s face, no reaction beyond a fond curl of his mouth; it was possible that he wasn’t aware of Markus’ nature, which was interesting.

But he did look thoroughly, almost oddly pleased, and Connor cocked his head in question.

“I’m proud of you for working on building new relationships,” Simon explained, plain and direct, and Connor nearly choked on the sudden lump in his throat.

Connor swallowed twice in quick succession, and then just nodded, almost childishly uncertain. Simon’s smile softened.

“Now, why don’t you tell me about Markus as if I had never met him before?” Simon prompted gently, and Connor gratefully went back to chewing on his stim tag, mulling the prompt over in his mind to avoid thinking about what Simon had just said.

It was- difficult to grasp, that was all. Connor hadn’t even really done anything.

* * *

Connor’s first shift at the shelter was in the afternoon and evening; he found himself awake in the early morning hours that day, energy surging under his skin as if urging him to pace and worry, but he planted himself on the couch instead and let the TV run; the true crime documentaries were almost soothing, the pacing slow and even and most of the conclusions entirely predictable even to someone less fond of the genre.

He hadn’t dreamed of Amanda that night, surprisingly. No, mostly he’d been thinking… about Markus.

Connor supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised, that having someone he liked in a position of authority would make his anxiety surge. It still wasn’t a reaction he was particularly fond of.

Sprawled on the couch in soft dog-patterned pajamas, chewing on his home-bound donut toy, Connor idly watched the documentary onscreen and mulled over the situation.

Markus had been considerate to him so far – kind, even, unabashedly and without reservation or hesitation. Even when Connor had fucked up, even when he’d been sloppy or embarrassing or dumb, Markus had been unfailingly understanding. So there was little reason to believe he would be any different in a work environment.

Except- then Connor’s mind wandered slowly to one night in particular. Just the month before, when Markus had asked him what not to say, and then ground Connor’s face into the pillow and called him a slut and a hole and-

And then Connor remembered the one time Markus had brought a knife to play with. The marks had healed almost invisibly, but Connor thought they were still visible if you squinted. And that had been…

Connor pressed his thighs together, tuning out the television without effort. That had… actually been one of the hottest things he’d done with Markus, but he had been too embarrassed to ask if they could do it again. Still, Connor thought about it a lot.

Even though Markus was visiting Connor much more often, Connor hadn’t gotten out of the habit of touching himself- well. Rather frequently.

Connor dropped his hand to stroke between his legs over his pajamas, and remembered Markus’ full demonic form. The curve of his horns. How much _bigger_ the wings made him look. The feeling of his tail on Connor’s clit.

Connor thumbed his clit, fingers pressing against his slit, as he recalled the sensation, and bit his lip against the feeling, warming up.

Markus had looked so _powerful._ And every bit as pretty.

Connor let his eyes slip shut. He wanted to do that again. He wanted to feel sharp claws scrape against his thighs, dangerously close to too many soft parts, while Markus pushed him down and, and said-

 _It would be so easy to hurt you,_ the Markus in Connor’s mind purred, and Connor pressed his fingers into his slit, rubbing up and down shamelessly under the soft dawn light. It sent pleasure curling up his stomach, and he tipped his head against the back of the couch, sighing, and imagined Markus. _You’ve made yourself so vulnerable, I just want to rip you open._

Connor could almost feel the scratches running up his stomach. A faint burn. A raised welt. He rubbed harder, moaning softly into the upholstery, and then moved his hand inside of his pants and rubbed into his wet cunt directly, his own flesh squeezing around his fingers.

 _Do you know how hungry I am?_ Connor imagined Markus whispering, and all of his weight pressing against Connor, crushing him against a table like Markus couldn’t wait any longer. Or chose not to. _It’s lovely to have you so conveniently nearby, I just knew it was a good idea… That’s all I wanted you here for, you know. You’re so cute when you beg for my cock._

Connor was fingering himself now, struggling to reach deeper into his hot, hungry cunt, face turned into the couch cushion to muffle his pants. His hips rocked slightly into his hand, rubbing his clit into his palm, and he let out a half-moan, squirming.

“Markusss…” he breathed longingly, face hot with embarrassment and arousal. God, he wanted more. He wanted-

His eyes landed on the arm of the couch, and an impulse flashed through his overheated brain. Without further thought, he pulled his fingers out of his cunt, stuck them in his mouth, and then pulled himself up to straddle it.

His slick cunt squished against the firm surface, and he groaned in quiet satisfaction, rocking against it experimentally. It was broad and perfectly curved, and God, it felt so _good_ between his legs. It felt _good._

 _“Yes,”_ Connor breathed, eyes squeezed shut, and started humping it, hips rubbing his wet slit against the surface roughly, searching for friction against the coarse cloth. He groaned. “Fuck, _Markus…”_

He wanted to feel Markus’ prehensile tail squirming around inside his cunt, scratching and scraping with its sharp edges. He wanted Markus to pull Connor against his chest and surround him, arms and wings, rub the corner of a horn against Connor’ face and grind his cock into Connor’s ass and groan right in Connor’s ear. He wanted to feel sharp talons digging into his hip, controlling him, he wanted…

 _“Ah,”_ he hissed, rutting against the couch arm and starting to lose his rhythm, shoving harshly against the furniture. “Uhh, _fuck_ yes.” He shifted his hips, found a better angle that ground his t-dick right between his weight and the couch arm, and moaned, sticky sweat beading at his hairline. _“Ohh.”_

Fuck, he was horny. He hadn’t wanted a vibrator or a dildo since he was a teenager, but God, he wished he had one now.

 _If you were a needy bitch, you’d ride me,_ Markus whispered in Connor’s imaginary ear, grinding into him, and his cock would be so hard against Connor’s ass, and it would feel so good inside him, fill him up so _full,_ and when Markus came it would be hot like _burning_ and Connor would, Connor would-

Connor mewled involuntarily, head tipping up towards the ceiling, speeding up the shaky rock of his hips. He wanted to ride Markus’ cock, he wanted it pressing all up inside him, he wanted to squeeze around it and feel it rub inside him and he wanted wanted wanted…

Connor’s rhythm shattered, and he shoved himself into the arm of the couch, gasping for breath and biting down low whines as the orgasm ripped through him, almost forcing his hips to rub his cunt against the broad cloth. He gasped a couple of times, trying to catch his breath, and only slowed down as the last sparks of pleasure wrung themselves out.

Then he slipped off and settled back onto the seat cushion, grimacing at the sweat sticking his clothes to his skin. God, would he even be able to focus on his work? Had he become that sex-obsessed?

He hoped he didn’t disappoint Markus.


	16. Impact Play

In his first week of work, Connor met: Josh the lead social worker; North, head of security; Lucy, on-site nurse; and Kara, women’s advocate.

Markus insisted that all of these people liked Connor. This seemed unlikely.

All the same, though, Connor’s first week went off nearly without a hitch. North, of course, did not like him at first, though it became less apparent after Connor coldly turned away a particularly charismatic man whose girlfriend had frozen stiff when he caught her eye. Kara held to much the same pattern.

Josh was harder to get a read on; Connor suspected him to be reserving judgement, but he seemed to trust Markus’. Connor had hope, at least.

He liked Lucy; he developed the habit of checking on her whenever he passed by, but didn’t linger, since she kept largely to herself. She seemed to appreciate it. It was possible that she, at least, _did_ like him.

Connor felt reasonably good about his new position by the end of the first week, at least, and further, the darkening leaves reminded him that it had now been almost exactly a year since he had first met Markus. He wondered vaguely if Markus had realized that.

At the end of the week, Connor discovered that he did.

“So between that and your first week at the shelter,” Markus continued, visibly embarrassed as he led Connor into his bedroom, “I wondered if there was something you’d been wanting to try.”

Connor hummed uncertainly, eyes on Markus, examining his relaxed posture, the subtle embarrassment of his grin, the way his fingers rubbed together in a silent nervous tic. Connor folded his arms over his stomach, hummed again just to feel it in his throat, and then muttered, “I’ve been…”

He stopped himself short, worried his request would be in poor taste given his new job location. But Markus gestured for him to go on, mismatched eyes clear and expectant, and Connor took a breath, kicked his feet on the ground, prepared about three quarters of a rushed apology and mentally checked the exits, and finished,

“Wanting you to- to hit me.”

Markus considered this visibly, brow furrowing slightly as he looked Connor up and down, slow and thoughtful. Connor stared back, and finally, Markus smiled at him.

“Did you like the knife?” he asked lightly, and Connor flushed and nodded guiltily. “Alright, I’ve worked with impact before. How much do you know about it?”

His voice was so _light._ Like he wasn’t annoyed or even particularly surprised.

Connor shrugged, hiding his relief the best he could, and almost smiled at the visible glimmer of amusement in Markus’ eyes. Markus leaned down to pull a box out from under the bed, nudged it open, and revealed a rather extensive toy chest of recognizable kink toys, neatly organized.

It wasn’t exhaustive, and was notably missing any kind of vibrator, dildo, or plug, including the ones he’d used on Connor before. Connor concluded that he had at least one more box, maybe two.

He then scooted away slightly, leaving room between them on the bed, and set four items down on the sheets, one by one.

“Would you like my hand, a flogger, a crop, a paddle, or a cane? I’ve worked a little with each of them, so it mostly just depends on how hard you want it.”

He placed each implement as he named it, and Connor had to smile this time, leaning over slightly to examine each of them in turn.

He actually had done some research, even if he had been too embarrassed to explain; it was one of the first things he did when he started thinking about it, first out of a loose curiosity and then a little deeper as he started to fantasize outright. He’d even watched… well, maybe more than a few videos. But Connor had never _tried_ anything.

The flogger looked relatively soft, just long strips of knotted cloth, so Markus himself had a clear upper limit. The cane was pretty, the way Markus liked things – Connor had noted that even the domestic shelter was walled with art, as was Markus’ home, and the cane here was a striated, knotted wood sanded smooth and polished. The paddle was flat, thick, and broad, and Connor could see a few more in the still-open toy chest.

But Connor was drawn to the crop, a simple riding crop with crisp brown leather, and it was this that he pushed towards Markus. Markus grinned at him, picked it up, and rolled it in his hands thoughtfully.

“With something like this, I won’t hit you on your face, it’s too harsh,” Markus said matter-of-factly, looking down at it – likely to make Connor feel less self-conscious, though it only marginally worked. “Can you give me at least two hard limits for this one, handsome?”

Connor considered, and Markus gave him several minutes and also a handful of speculative looks, each one darkening something in his eyes.

“Don’t hit my palms,” he said at last, decisively. “And not the bottoms of my feet either.” He knew that was… painful. Excessively.

Markus gave a sharp nod of understanding, and then a pleased smile. “You want me to tease you with it, sweetheart?” Connor nodded a little too quickly, and Markus laughed. “Aren’t you a treat to spend the night with.”

He leaned over and pressed a quick, unthinking kiss to Connor’s cheek, and Connor had to keep himself from putting his hand over it like a grade schooler; Markus didn’t even seem to notice. He gave Connor one last up-and-down, and then nodded to himself.

“Alright, gorgeous, quick check: I’d like to hit you on your arms-” He lightly touched one of Connor’s forearms indicatively, and Connor smiled a little, staring down. “Your thighs, just at the back.” Tapped one of Connor’s thighs, a long finger ghosting over the bare skin. “Your ass, and right between your legs – I’d do it carefully, but I won’t mind if you turn that one down.”

He glanced up to meet Connor’s eyes as he finished, bright with excitement. Connor mentally reviewed Markus’ suggestions, squirmed in place, and nodded quickly.

“That sounds perfect,” he managed after a moment, tapping his fingers together self-consciously. “Can you, ah…” Markus nodded encouragingly, and Connor finished, quick and quiet, “Can you fuck me with the crop?”

Markus stared at him for a moment, and Connor felt heat creep across his face even before Markus laughed.

“Absolutely,” Markus said warmly, and Connor relaxed and grinned, small and pleased. “Hm… Oh, would you be able to hold a position?” Connor nodded without hesitation, and Markus beamed, standing up and brushing off his pants. “I think that’s everything – can you undress and kneel in the middle of the room and then tell me your safeword, sweetheart?”

Connor took a deep breath, stripped and folded up his clothes, and then lowered himself down and looked up at Markus, who seemed so much bigger than him like this.

“Color system,” Connor said quietly, rocking slowly in place to soothe his racing heart.

Markus gave him a pleased smile, turned away, and started stripping, tossing his clothes carelessly aside into the waiting basket. Then, to Connor’s surprise, he put on new ones: a loose pair of paint-splattered jeans and a soft leather jacket that he left casually open.

Connor swallowed. Markus smirked at him.

“Red, yellow, green,” Connor added without taking his wide eyes off Markus, hands fisting over his knees. It was at about that point that he realized he was excited already, breath coming quick and thighs warm with anticipation.

“Perfect, sweetheart,” Markus murmured, and then walked back to the bed, picked up the crop, and turned it over in his hands. “I use easel, generally, but we can find a specialized one for you another time if you want to keep doing this.”

And then he looked up at Connor, smiled again, and strode in front of him, confidence in every line of his body. Connor glanced between his face and the crop, quick and fervent, and let his fists tighten.

“When you’re ready,” Connor managed after a moment, shifting in place as if to alleviate tension even as he remained fixated. Markus gave him a fond look.

“I was born ready, gorgeous,” Markus said with unwarranted humor, and finally crouched in front of Connor and brought the crop to his face.

Connor’s heart skipped a beat, jaw clenching tightly as his mind flashed through _he said he wouldn’t hit my face_ and _hell no!_ and _fucking shit,_ but all Markus did was press the leather gently against Connor’s cheek and then pause, frowning slightly.

“Color, handsome?” he asked quietly, not moving. Connor took a breath.

“Green,” he said shortly. “You- you startled me.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Markus murmured without hesitation, and then started moving again, rubbing the leather crop in a small circle over Connor’s cheek.

Connor turned into it, feeling the material rasp against his skin, and Markus traced a path up to his ear, down his jaw, over his throat, and then back up the opposite side. Slowly, Connor relaxed, sighing softly and letting his head tilt. His fists relaxed in his lap.

“Buttery smooth, isn’t it?” Markus coaxed gently, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. “I promise, this is going to hurt only in exactly the ways you want it to, and it’s going to be _wonderful.”_

“It’s nice,” Connor muttered, his head turning just a little to follow the crop as it rubbed across his face, tingling strangely. His brow was still furrowed a little, but most of his attention was on the movement of the crop. “I want, I think…”

Connor faltered and trailed off, but Markus, still crouched in front of him, just gave him a small smile and brushed the crop over Connor’s lower lip. Connor shivered, head tipping up a little, and felt his stomach swoop with arousal.

“I think you know what _I_ want, don’t you?” Markus coaxed, and tapped the crop ever-so-gently on Connor’s lower lip.

The last of the tension drained out of Connor’s shoulders, and he opened his mouth. Markus pushed the tip of the crop carefully inside, and it rubbed over the surface of Connor’s tongue, leaving a trail of its taste behind it. It filled his mouth, opening it up without effort, and Connor’s eyes drifted halfway shut, his jaw loosening around the implement. His whole body warmed pleasantly.

“Good boy,” Markus murmured, and Connor closed his lips around the edge of the crop and sucked lightly, humming in pleasure at the flavor and the praise. His thighs rubbed together. “Such a good boy, baby, you look so gorgeous with your mouth full. I’m going to take it out and hit you now, is that okay?”

Connor nodded with the crop still in his mouth, and didn’t open his eyes again until he parted his lips, letting Markus reclaim the tool with a pleased leer.

“Good boy,” Markus praised, rubbing his thumb over the end without taking his eyes off Connor. He didn’t look like Connor’s slip had bothered him at all, just watching Connor with warm anticipation. Then he stood up. “Hold your arms out in front of you, wrist up – you can keep your hands closed if you want, sweetheart.”

Connor looked away, shame creeping into his cheeks, but he nodded and held his arms out in front of him, fists closed tightly. “Sorry.”

“Shhh, baby, it’s alright,” Markus crooned, and then the leather crop was stroking over Connor’s forearms, slow and steady, elbow to wrist. Connor bit his lip, the soft, damp leather consuming more of his attention that strictly warranted. “You’re being so good and trusting for me, it’s just _breathtaking.”_

A pause, and Connor just had time to brace himself before Markus brought the crop up and then _cracking_ against his skin, halfway up his forearm, sending a sharp sting up his nerves.

Connor yelped softly, and arousal burst down his spine in such a way that his t-dick sprang to attention, stiffening rapidly under its hood.

“See?” Markus cooed. “Look how well you took that. Didn’t move an inch. Absolutely lovely. You want me to do that again, handsome?”

Connor took a quick breath and nodded, arms still held out perfectly in front of him. After a moment, he snuck a glance up at Markus overhead, practically looming in his open leather jacket, looking hot and expectant. And Markus just smirked at him, and then cracked the crop against Connor’s forearm again, drawing another yelp and a hot, pink welt where it landed.

Both blows burned very faintly, but it was the warmth that really lingered, a burn in Connor’s belly that had him swallowing thickly, a few times in a row.

“Oh, again,” he breathed, quiet and pleading, and Markus’ smirk widened and softened at the same time, something easing around his eyes.

“As you wish, darling,” he purred, and then three blows landed in quick succession on Connor’s outstretched arms, two on his left arm and one on his right. Each one drew a stifled gasp out of Connor, and his whole body jerked with the last, hips struggling to roll in place as his cunt struggled to clench around nothing.

Connor let out a breath, processing the faintly throbbing sting of his arms, and Markus cracked the crop against him again, making him jump.

This time, Connor groaned, quiet and thrumming. He was panting by now, his breath coming in shallow gasps, and he rocked in place not to calm himself but to rub his thighs together and grind down. The muscles of his cunt fluttered with arousal. He nodded, despite having been not asked a question, nodded again, and then rasped, “Exactly what I wanted, Markus,” and he wasn’t sure if it was praise or a plea.

Markus apparently took it as the latter.

“Of course, gorgeous,” Markus crooned smugly, and then he cradled one of Connor’s hands in a beautiful long-fingered grip, with only the most delicate of touches… and then he stretched it out a little further, leaned down slightly, and cracked the leather crop just above Connor’s elbow.

Connor cried out, hips jerking forward, and lifted his head to stare up at Markus, panting hotly. Sweat gathered somewhere in the dip of his back, sticky-warm.

Markus looked so focused. He looked so _pretty._

Five more times, timed and spaced perfectly evenly up Connor’s arm, Markus lashed the crop against Connor’s skin, leaving bright pink patches in its wake. By the end, Connor’s gasps had gained a shaky edge, his hips circling against the ground, and he could make out a bulge in Markus’ jeans.

“Fuck,” Connor whimpered out before Markus could say anything, and offered up his other arm before the other could even let go.

Markus beamed at him.

“Oh, you’re a _treasure,”_ he said with blatant pleasure, took the offered, loosely open hand, and left six even, pink raised welts on that forearm too. At the last stroke, Connor moaned tremulously, eyelids fluttering slightly, and his hips rolled forward onto the air.

God, he was _soaking_ wet, he could feel it. His thick clit throbbed with want, and his cunt was twitching with it, empty and aching.

“Markus, angel,” he pleaded senselessly to the space in front of him, not even quite focused on Markus. His heart rabbited, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. “Hurts, a-ahh…”

“Right here, baby,” Markus promised him, and then his hand was cupping Connor’s cheek, tilting Connor’s head up to look Markus in the eye. Connor struggled for a moment to focus on him, but Markus’ smile when he did lit him up from the inside out. “I want you on your hands and knees now, beautiful, and you’ll hold position while I whip your thighs and your ass and your eager little sex. And _then_ I’ll fuck you with this thick sturdy crop. Good?”

Connor hummed a loud and vehement agreement, and without difficulty, rocked forward, caught himself on the floor, and spread his legs. His forearms still ached and burned in time with his pulse, and it felt so _good._

The first blow came without warning, and Connor cried out loudly at the harsh smack across his ass. At the second, on the opposite cheek, he _moaned,_ arching back into it.

“Color, sweetheart,” Markus prompted, with a smug note to his voice that said he already knew the answer.

“Greeen,” Connor cooed without hesitation, squirming and bobbing in place, heat rippling under his skin wonderfully. “Uhh, you’re so good, angel. Fuck, ow, God, I want- _more.”_

“Perfect,” Markus purred, and the next blow made Connor whimper.

By the time Markus finished, there were tears in Connor’s eyes, a wet rasp to his moans, and his hips thrust and rolled involuntarily against nothing, his t-dick pulsing hotly in time with his heartbeat while sweat rolled down his neck. Just the brush of air made his ass and thighs sting with raw, painful heat, and Connor mewled, head foggy with pleasure and overwhelm.

“Oh, you’re doing so beautifully,” Markus sighed over him, and then the crop was back, rubbing deep circles over his sensitized skin. Connor gasped wetly, trembling in place and torn between the desire to pull away and to push into it, and he heard Markus laugh softly. _“So_ wonderfully, my perfect sweet little good boy. God, you’re so pretty bent over like this with your legs spread and your skin all flushed pink and raw. You’ll be feeling this for a week.”

Connor moaned a quiet, wordless agreement, pushing up into the air as if to show off better for the man above him. His skin was tight and hot; his wet cunt twitched with need. He wanted- God, he wanted. Anything. Everything.

His arms, of course, held perfectly steady.

“Almost done, baby,” Markus said tenderly, and then moved the crop down to rub against Connor’s inner thighs, making him whimper, soft and cracking, and then directly against Connor’s soaked cunt.

Connor groaned loudly and unabashedly, pushing back as Markus rubbed the smooth surface of the crop deep into the crease of his slit, sending tendrils of liquid warmth soaring through Connor’s stomach and curling through his brain. “Ahh, angellll…”

“Right here,” Markus crooned, and then slapped his leather riding crop against Connor’s cunt.

Connor let out a strangled cry, his hips rocking forward, away from the blow, and then back towards the crop, trying to grind against it. His breath came heavy, and he rocked almost mindlessly, searching for friction, heat throbbing through his whole body. He could taste sweat.

Markus landed a second, harder slap, so, so close to Connor’s painfully hard t-dick, and Connor’s voice cracked around a sob, humping back onto nothing, rapid and demanding. He nodded again, bobbing and desperate.

“Marrrkusss,” he moaned, begging to be fucked – somehow, anyhow, just to soothe the needy ache of his burning t-dick. “Mm, Markus, please, I’m ready, I want, I want-”

“Anything you want, Connor,” Markus promised, and then he was pushing the rough grip of the riding crop into Connor’s cunt, slow and deliberate, and Connor was moaning in relief, spreading his legs further as if to make room, still humping back urgently even with the slight burn of the coarse cloth.

“Mm, mm, mm, mm-” Connor whimpered, hips jerking back onto the tool in his cunt, mouth open to pant as a knot coiled in his gut with almost blinding speed, his whole body tingling with arousal and the skin of his arms and thighs aching in the air. “Ooh, oh, yes, yes, ah…”

“Good boy,” Markus cooed over him, his pleasure audible enough to send another coil of lust spinning through Connor’s foggy brain. “Look at you, so perfect and needy, fucking yourself on my crop. You don’t even need my help, you’re going to come all on your own. You make my cock so fucking hard just looking at you squirm.”

Connor whined, speeding up uncontrollably, feeling almost out of control of the desperate movement of his hips as he jammed the handle against his aching walls. “Markus, Markus, M-Markus-”

He didn’t even realize he was begging until warm fingers pushed around his clit, in that _perfect_ fucking V, and his last moan came out hoarse and lingering, pace shattering as he came around the rough grip of the crop, hips jerking wildly between that and Markus’ patient fingers. The pleasure shot through him in rough lightning bolts, blanking out his mind entirely as he chased them in rough, harsh motions, and even once he’d collapsed, it together several minutes for him to stop mewling, twitching aftershocks shooting through his body.

Almost as soon as he had, he felt something warm and thick splatter across his back in several long spurts. With a force of will, Connor lolled his head and looked up, focusing on Markus’, steamy lust-darkened eyes half-lidded, with his softening cock in his hand.

Realizing what had happened, Connor just gave him a dizzy, warm smile and let himself relax again. The welts scattered over his limbs chafed in the open air, and he relished in it for a while, still shivering a little where he lay, while Markus went off to do something.

A wet cloth running over his skin made him frown and roll to examine the source, but it was just Markus, and when Connor caught his eye, he smiled warmly, expression soft. “How are you feeling, Connor?”

Connor hummed vaguely, brought up one arm to cradle his fuzzy, spacy head, and didn’t even wince at the scrape of the raw nerves. “Good,” he sighed. Rubbed his face into the crook of his arm, and added idly, “Sticky.” His sweat was drying unpleasantly to his skin.

Markus laughed quietly, rubbing the damp cloth over Connor’s back and neck until he was cooing softly in a different kind of pleasure. “We’ll get that taken care of, don’t you worry. I’ve got you.”

Connor nodded against his elbow, pleasantly loose-limbed. For a few minutes, Markus just wiped him down, attentive and meticulous, and murmured quiet words of praise that made Connor smile shyly into the crook of his arm. It felt good, wiping away the thin coat of grime and cooling off his hot skin.

The floor of Markus’ bedroom was a smooth, polished hardwood. Connor wondered vaguely if it was for ease of cleaning.

“Do you want me to help you up so you don’t have to sit?” Markus asked eventually, a soft and soothing sort of patience coating his voice.

Connor nodded sleepily, and then Markus’ hands were at his upper arms, hauling him to his feet. Connor swayed, head spinning with vertigo at the motion, and Markus caught him, pulling him close. Connor tipped his head up to find his mismatched eyes suddenly inches away, crinkled with fondness.

“Easy there. An endorphin rush like that can be a little hard on a human body.”

Connor pushed his face into the crook of Markus’ neck, found it wonderfully warm, and nuzzled into him. “’S nice,” he mumbled, letting himself be led somewhere in the direction of the bed. “Quiet.” It was so easy to cling to Markus and just let the other take the lead, idly processing the sensory input rushing in, cool air and aching skin and the smooth wood and Markus’ warm hands on him.

Markus chuckled softly and eased Connor down onto the cotton covers, making sure his ass and thighs didn’t scrape against anything before he was level again. “I’ve heard that. Can you sit tight, sweetheart? I’ve got some salve to put on those welts.”

“Don’t need it,” Connor muttered, and tried to tug Markus closer. Cold was creeping into his chest, and he wanted… warmth. Familiar and comforting contact. “Lay down.”

“I’ll be just a minute, I promise,” Markus soothed, reaching up to brush his fingers through Connor’s hair and make him melt back down. “You’ve been so good for me tonight, baby, you can wait just one minute, can’t you?”

“Yeah…” Connor sighed reluctantly, letting go of Markus’ arm to drop down into the soft bed. It seemed like an oddly monumental task, and yet still the easiest thing to actually do.

Markus lingered for another few seconds, putting a pillow under Connor’s head and rubbing the base of his neck again, and then he was gone. Connor grimaced, bringing his arm up to tuck his face into the elbow again and becoming slowly aware of the sharp sting of the welts and the chill of the air and the size of the bed. He started shivering again, frowning into the pillow.

And then Markus was back, sitting down next to him and tilting his head up to meet Connor’s eyes, smiling gently. “Right here, Connor.”

“Skin hurts,” Connor mumbled sullenly, hiding his face. Markus clucked sympathetically.

“May I put the salve on you? It’ll make you feel better in the morning.”

“Don’t need it,” Connor repeated, letting his eyes drift shut. “Lay down, I wanna cuddle. Cold.”

“May I?” Markus repeated patiently, and Connor opened his eyes, squinting at him, and then, finally, sighed and nodded. To his surprise, Markus beamed at him then, and before he knew it, Connor grinned back, sleepy and pleased.

God. He felt so _good._

Markus opened up the jar in his hands and scooped some out, and then he was smoothing it over Connor’s ass, rubbing it in with an almost painfully gentle touch. Connor grimaced and bore it, trying not to squirm as the friction stung him anyway.

“Coollld,” he whined, rubbing his face into the pillow.

“You’re doing so well,” Markus soothed, making Connor settle almost instantly. “Thank you for letting me take care of you, you’re doing perfectly, you’re so lovely to spend the night with and you mean so much to me.”

Connor almost couldn’t help but relax by increments, tilting his head up to watch Markus’ focused expression as he rubbed the salve into Connor’s skin, moving from his ass down his thigh, scooping up more, and coating that in cold and sticky medicine before switching to the other side.

His expression was so _soft._ Like he cared. Like he didn’t want to be anywhere but here, looking after Connor, soothing his hurts. Involuntarily, Connor let out another soft, happy hum, and watched Markus smile in return. He wanted Markus to hold him. Markus looked so warm.

“Can you hold out your arms, baby?” Markus coaxed, and Connor obeyed without hesitation, stretching them out, open-palmed and relaxed.

Markus rubbed salve into his forearms too, gentle with the sore nerves, and Connor giggled quietly. Markus smiled at him.

“What is it, handsome?”

“’M really happy,” Connor sighed, even as a rougher pass of Markus’ fingers made him wince. “Can you hold me yet? It’s cold.”

“In a minute,” Markus promised, and Connor hummed disconsolately, let Markus finish rubbing the medicine into his arms, and then beamed as Markus rearranged the covers, pulled them over Connor, and then climbed in beside him.

Instantly, Connor rolled into him, ignoring the rough scrape of the covers against skin, and sighed happily as he was plastered against Markus’ chest, then giggled when Markus’ arms closed around him, pulling him closer.

“So nice, Markus,” Connor sighed, rubbing his cheek against Markus’ chest, feeling Markus’ hand come up to cradle the back of his head. He heard Markus huff a soft laugh, easily audible over the soft, even sound of his heartbeat.

“God,” Markus sighed. “This is the only kind of intoxication I ever want to let you feel again.”

Connor giggled softly, and a few seconds passed in silence. Then Markus’ heartbeat sped up suddenly, and he stiffened, the motion of his hands stopping all at once. Connor huffed, reaching up to pat Markus’ arm clumsily.

“No,” he ordered childishly, rubbing his cheek harder against Markus’ collar. “It’s sleep time now. No thinking.”

A heartbeat passed, and then Markus massaged the back of Connor’s head gently and replied, “Anything you say, sweetheart.”

Connor nodded decisively, wrapped his arms around Markus in return, and dropped off to sleep in minutes, Markus’ fingers running through his hair.

Every time he woke up that night, panting and gasping, Markus stirred with him and soothed him back down, sleepy and soft and comforting, voice slurred with sleep. And each time, Connor was asleep again inside of an hour.


	17. Medical Play

Sometime after that, Markus said, abruptly enough to make Connor startle, “You seem to like cuddling a lot.”

Connor frowned a little, brow furrowed, and tilted his head back to look at Markus, studying his expression. He just looked soft, though, looking expectantly at Connor as Connor hesitated.

It was true that Connor enjoyed skin contact, and didn’t have a lot of chances for it; Amanda had never been physically affectionate even on good days, and Nines, while willing to offer physical comfort, didn’t tend to do so casually. It was- well, something Connor had not exactly allowed himself to desire. How could you miss something you had never had real access to?

“…Is that a problem?” he asked stiltedly, already bracing himself to pull away. Almost every inch of their still-sweaty bodies were pressed together, chest and stomach and arms and legs, and he didn’t understand the problem, it was _dizzyingly_ wonderful, but if he was annoying Markus-

But Markus was shaking his head, pulling Connor closer as if to press the point. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. Not everyone does, for one thing. But I mean- would you want to meet sometimes just for this?” Connor stared at him blankly, and Markus elaborated, “I’ve been thinking about how I could maybe help you sleep more often. I can’t feed from you more than twice a week at the _most_ without hurting you, but if we just lay together and doze…”

He trailed off awkwardly as Connor just kept staring, completely stumped by the idea that Markus had been _thinking_ about him. Thinking about _helping_ him, coming up with _ideas._

That he was offering to go through with one of them. To just _visit,_ without even getting anything out of it. Connor swallowed thickly.

“But what about you?” he managed hoarsely, unable to disguise the brutal hope creeping into his voice.

Markus smiled at him, crooked and apologetic.

“It wouldn’t be every night,” he admitted. “Hard to find partners during the day, and I have to work then too. Maybe an extra night or two a week. But it’s better than nothing, right?”

Before he’d even finished speaking, Connor was nodding rapidly enough to hurt, chest tight, and Markus grinned at him.

“Shit,” Connor breathed, with undisguised wonder. “You’re so fucking _nice.”_

Markus’ grin softened with something like embarrassment, but all he said was a light, “I think you deserve a little ‘nice’.”

* * *

Markus had put an unusual amount of care into the scenery tonight, Connor noticed; the background that was usually an indistinct and half-empty version of his bedroom or living room was now a sparse but detailed doctor’s office, with only subtle and forgivable inconsistencies. And instead of being naked, Connor wore a loose hospital gown, though his feet were bare and he had no underwear.

It made him smile a little. Markus must really be into this idea.

Markus was dressed too, in an almost comically stereotypical lab coat, with a stethoscope around his shoulders and even a little pair of glasses – to make him look smarter, Connor assumed.

Markus grinned back, and it was then that Connor realized how silly his own expression had become. “Don’t laugh at me. It’s all about setting the mood.”

Connor’s smile softened and warmed, and he let his heels bump idly against the examination table. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said fondly.

Markus beamed, the corners of his eyes crinkling beautifully, and then picked a clipboard off the counter and pretended to reference it; he even adjusted his glasses, and Connor had to bite down a laugh. “Now, what seems to be the problem, Connor?”

That almost made Connor beam all by itself. ‘Mr. Stern’ fit the mood of the scene better, he knew, but Connor had asked Markus not to call him that. And Markus hadn’t failed to respect his wishes before. And in return…

“Just a check-up today, Dr. Manfred,” Connor said obediently, reaching down to fiddle with the edge of his gown and hiding his smile. “I’ve been trying to come in more often, like you asked.”

“That’s very good,” Markus reassured him, and checked the clipboard, and then came closer to lean casually against the table, looking Connor deliberately up and down. “Now, your chart says you’re a little overdue for a prostate exam. I can perform that today if you’re comfortable.”

Connor fidgeted in place, rocking and swaying. “Mm, I don’t know… I was hoping to ask for a female nurse to do it, since I, ah, swing for the home team. It’s a little less awkward.” It was an effort not to smile, and Markus’ glittering eyes said he knew it.

“I’ll be nothing more or less than professional,” Markus promised. “It’s perfectly normal to get aroused, and I know how to handle it, I promise. If you want, we can run through the rest of the exam, and you can make your decision at the end.”

Connor nodded instantly, folding his hands in his lap. “That’s perfect, thank you, Dr. Manfred. What do you need me to do?”

“Welllll…” Markus drew it out and pretended to check the clipboard again. “It looks like you’re due for a full check-up, so I’m going to ask you to take off that hospital gown. Standard procedure, I promise.”

Connor fidgeted with the tie uncertainly. “What are you…?”

“Just a standard check-up,” Markus promised. “I can turn around while you undress if you prefer.”

Connor shook his head, pulled at the tie, and set the gown aside, squirming naked on the table. Markus looked him up and down appreciatively, a slight smile on his mouth, still in that silly lab coat, with its stethoscope and the little glasses, and Connor bit his lip.

Then Markus started to move around him, going through the motions – checking blood pressure with a cuff around his arm and a hand on his back, then steadying himself on Connor’s shoulder to lean down and check his eyes and ears. He checked Connor’s pulse at his throat, pressing carefully into the skin while Connor held himself deliberately still, not breaking eye contact with the other man. And he rubbed Connor’s hip while he leaned down to check his reflexes, sliding it slowly down Connor’s thigh.

“Aren’t you being a little, ah, handsy?” Connor murmured from memory, his breath catching a little as Markus’ hands traveled over his skin. He leaned into them anyway, lips parting.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Markus asked instead of answering, voice casual. Connor shook his head mutely. “Then there’s no problem at all.”

Markus finished up around Connor’s knees and made his way slowly back up, tracing each one of Connor’s scars as he passed – a knife wound on his thigh, a bullet graze at his waist, a smattering of shrapnel scars over his chest.

“Any lingering pains?” Markus prompted, moving over to do the same tracing at Connor’s back – a burn on his shoulder, an old avulsion further down. Connor swallowed.

“Only on rainy days,” he murmured, glancing over his shoulder. There was an odd tightness in his chest, and he tried not to think about it.

Markus was acting so _tender._ Like he’d never really _looked_ at Connor’s scars before, but he was now.

Markus hummed softly, and then donned the stethoscope properly and pressed it to Connor’s chest. “Breathe in.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Connor’s face, and he relaxed a little, closing his eyes and inhaling. Markus moved the cold bell around Connor’s chest, back and forth, and eventually started to deliberately move it over Connor’s nipples, rubbing against them. Connor sighed, tilting his head.

“Mm,” he huffed in quiet pleasure, letting himself sink into the scene a little more. “That feels, mm, a little too good, doctor.”

He opened his eyes to Markus’ smile. “I suppose that would be why your breathing sounds a little funny,” Markus teased lightly, eyes shadowing with clear desire. “May I check your sensitivity there? It’s good to examine any major changes to the chest tissue just in case.”

“If you say so,” Connor demurred, and bit his cheek when Markus immediately reached for his chest, massaging around his nipples carefully. His fingers were warm and gentle, quickly making heat rise between Connor’s thighs, and he exhaled shakily, tipping his head up to watch Markus’ focused expression. _“Ah_ – does everything seem, seem okay?”

Markus hummed thoughtfully and kneaded his palms into Connor’s chest. Connor bit down a soft moan. “No worrying textures – you feel quite nice, if I do say so myself. Is this level of sensitivity normal for you?”

Now Connor’s cheeks were hot too. He nodded. “It feels so good to have my chest played with,” he sighed, and tried not to grin at the flash of naked lust across Markus’ face. He rubbed his thighs together, deliberate and showy. “Do you like playing with my nipples, Dr. Manfred?”

It would be inappropriate, for a professional. For a patient. Incredibly so. Connor shivered.

Markus’ breath stuttered, and Connor watched him swallow. “I certainly wouldn’t call it a chore,” he murmured, gave Connor a small, sly smile, and straightened up without removing his fingers from where they traced around Connor’s chest. “Now, have you made a decision about your prostate exam, Connor?”

“Yeah,” Connor sighed, leaning into Markus’ touch a little. “I want you to do it. Be as… _thorough_ as you like.”

He gave Markus a small grin of his own, and wished he could see how hard Markus was under his lab coat. How hard the thought of making Connor squirm and whine in arousal under the guise of a routine medical check made him, like trickery, indecent and mischievous. Markus smiled back, eyes glimmering with clear pleasure, and finally let go, stepping back.

“Then please stand up and bend over the table for me,” Markus instructed, gesturing subtly with one hand even as he turned away.

Connor obeyed, pressing his hardening clit against the corner of the table and watching Markus set aside the stethoscope and pull out a box of gloves, which he pulled on, presumably for full effect. Guiltily excited, Connor rubbed experimentally against the corner of the table, letting pleasure melt through his groin. He’d been in a dozen doctor’s offices like this, and it was easy to imagine-

Markus didn’t miss it.

“Excited already?” he teased, spreading lubricant over a few of his fingers. Connor nodded shamelessly, and Markus stepped behind Connor and circled his anus with one slick finger, slow and languid. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Have you ever gotten a prostate exam before?”

“No,” Connor sighed, focused on the cold, wet feeling spreading around, up and down his crack as he braced against the table. “It won’t hurt, will it?”

“I’ll be very careful,” Markus promised, dipping his finger in and immediately pulling it back out as Connor inhaled sharply. “Easy does it, just relax for me.”

Connor forced himself to relax, spreading his legs a little with a wriggle. “Is it going to feel good?”

“If you’d like,” Markus promised, and dipped his finger back in, letting it linger this time. Connor frowned a little, squirming to adjust, and then relaxed, allowing Markus to push the finger further in. “There we go, how’s that?”

Connor moaned softly, feeling his cunt tingle with arousal at the faint and detached stimulation. “Good,” he murmured, tipping his hips up a little. “It feels real good, doctor.” Just the word sent another swoop of arousal through his stomach.

“Oh, perfect,” Markus purred, pulled the finger out, slicked it up a little more, and pushed it back in, moving it around a little this time. Connor hissed, heat swelling pleasantly between his thighs, and humped forward against the table.

God. Markus was so good to him.

Markus pressed the second one in slowly, giving Connor time to relax around it. “Nothing feels amiss,” he said, moving both fingers in and out while Connor squirmed under him, leaning heavily on the table and panting. He pushed his hips just enough into Connor that Connor could feel the bulge of his erection, and it made him whine softly. “But I’ll have to add another point of pressure to be sure.”

“Uh-huh,” Connor breathed, pressed his palms against the paper covering the table, and bucked forward, letting arousal throb through his body. The feeling was familiar and almost comforting by now, with Markus maintaining his perfect control, teasing as much pleasure out of Connor’s body as he wanted.

“I think my cock will do,” Markus added, voice low and purring again, rubbing his hips slowly against Connor’s ass. “You don’t mind, do you, Connor?” Connor shook his head, rubbing the wet line of his cunt dazedly against the table. “You seem to have gotten rather aroused.”

Connor shuddered, his cunt aching for attention, and rubbed himself harder against the corner. “Are you going to fuck my ass, Dr. Manfred?” he rasped, and it was easy to imagine that it was real, that he was being dirty and needy for a real doctor while they just did their job and struggled to remain professional. He whined softly.

Markus’ fingers twitched in Connor’s ass, then pressed in a little deeper, rubbing smoothly. “Not today,” he murmured huskily. “But I thought it would be helpful to rub your sweet taint between my cock and fingers. To accurately assess your health, of course.”

Connor groaned, hips rocking urgently, begging for friction. “Whatever you think is best,” he panted, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Markus at work. “Are you gonna make me come?”

“How else can I adequately ensure everything is working?” Markus purred, and his eyes were half-lidded in focus, free hand deftly undoing his lab coat and free his hardened cock.

But it was his expression that really caught Connor’s attention, the gentle smile, the crinkles of his eyes, the slight tilt of his head. He looked patient; he looked indulgent. And it was at that moment, seeing Markus’ focused look, that Connor realized he liked Markus quite a lot.

He’d _do_ a lot, if Markus asked.

Connor moaned openly as Markus slid his cock home, spreading Connor open and setting his groin alight with sensation, his fingers still moving around inside Connor’s backdoor. _“Ahh.”_

Markus groaned too, barely giving Connor a moment to adjust before he was pumping in and out of Connor’s slick hole, fucking eagerly. “God, you’re wet,” he hissed, and pressed down hard with his fingers, doing exactly as he’d promised and making Connor cry out in pleasure. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Fuck yeah,” Connor mewled, hips moving just as insistently as Markus’, seeking more, harder. “Your cock’s so good, Dr. Manfred. Ahh, you fuck me so good.” Markus could so easily drive him to distraction.

Markus grunted, driving into Connor with enough force to make him gasp, spreading him open with his fingers, and leaned over to rasp, “How does this feel, Connor?”

“It feels _amazing,”_ Connor moaned, feeling Markus rub around inside him, sending sparks up to tie a knot in his gut, tighter and tighter, his hips moving without instruction. “Ohh, I’m so close. Little- little harder-”

Markus pressed his fingers deeper into Connor’s ass, slammed his hips harder against Connor’s, and gasped in audible pleasure. Connor groaned loudly, fingers scrabbling against the table.

“Yes, yes, yes, like that, like-” he panted out, rocking his hips up just a little, rubbing Markus’ fingers and cock into him in just the right way, silently demanding. “Fuck, fuck, yes- yes-”

It was only another minute before Connor came undone, shuddering and gasping under Markus, writhing as if to demand every ounce of pleasure Markus could give him. Shameless cries spilled from his mouth, and his orgasm crashed over him in waves, hot and mind-blowing. It left him shivering quietly on the table, swallowing convulsively as he recovered, and it was another few before he half rolled over, looking at an all-too-smug Markus, still with those same silly glasses.

“Everything seem alright?” Connor breathed, and wriggled under Markus. Markus laughed.

“Just perfect,” Markus crooned, thrusting playfully a few more times before finally pulling away, soaked with Connor’s juices. Connor grinned.

“How can I thank you?” Connor purred experimentally, still twitching with slight aftershocks of pleasure. He glanced down at Markus’ still-throbbing cock and licked his lips, and Markus laughed quietly.

“I may have an idea,” Markus murmured back, and sidestepped to lean back against the wall.


	18. Anal Sex

It was the tenderness that really got to Connor.

It was the way Markus kept his mouth mindfully closed even when Connor forgot himself and lapped at his mouth. The slow drift of his palms over Connor’s back. The way his hand so carefully cradled the back of Connor’s head as Connor leaned up to mouth wantonly at the pulse of his throat.

Markus held Connor close like a treasure, and Connor couldn’t help but clutch him back and arch up into him, whining against Markus’ skin as his blood ran hot. His thighs flexed and tightened on either side of Markus’ hips.

“Easy, monsieur, I know you can be patient,” Markus soothed with a small, lust-shadowed smile. His fingers rubbed up and down the crease of Connor’s cunt, teasing and slow, and then finally dipped further down and into the slicked backdoor. “I know you’re eager, but I’m not going to rush. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Connor squirmed, wondering at the lightheaded discomfort in his chest, completely separate from Markus’ finger slowly probing into his asshole.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, leaning over to mouth absently at Markus’ shoulder, feeling out the broad curve of the muscle there. God, Markus was… “I’m pretty sure I’ve taken a lot worse than a cock in the ass, Markus.”

Markus nipped at Connor’s throat, and Connor couldn’t stop himself from letting out a shaky gasp, hips tipping up into Markus’ touch. He could feel Markus’ half-hard cock against the inside of his thigh, closer to the knee than where he _wanted_ it, damn it.

Even Markus’ teeth were gentle.

“If you want it to hurt a little, just say so,” Markus chided. “Otherwise, I’m going to prep you as long as I like. Frankly, if you’re framing it in terms of what’s worse, you’re in too much pain.”

“Shouldn’t have told you I’d never taken it up the ass before,” Connor muttered sullenly, trying to swallow down the strange flutter in his chest. “You’re being overcautious.”

“I’d’ve assumed so anyway,” Markus dismissed with a grin, pressing down onto Connor. He pushed a second finger into Connor’s ass, and the movement of his hand was so slow and careful that Connor felt almost like he was being persuaded open. “And there’s no such thing as too cautious. You deserve to feel amazing, sweetheart.”

Mortified and off-balance, Connor bit lightly on Markus’ earlobe, feeling the soft skin between his lips and listening to Markus’ startled gasp and the chuckle that followed.

“I want it to hurt a little,” he muttered with some embarrassment, spreading his legs to make room as Markus pulled his fingers out, added more lube, and pushed them back in, coaxing him open a little more and teasing Connor’s cock with his other hand and just making him _ache_ for it. “You’re- you’re being so _gentle,_ it’s-” The words to explain failed to come, and instead Connor bite down lightly at the cord of Markus’ neck, making Markus groan and thrust against him.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” Markus rasped, and then he was pushing another finger into Connor, quick enough to make him grunt this time, knees snapping shut around Markus’ hips again. “Is that what you wanted, handsome? You wanted me to go faster?”

It did ache the faintest bit now – not nearly as much as Connor had wanted, not enough to take the edge off Markus’ tenderness, but it sweetened the pleasure and made his hips rub up into Markus’ other hand, his own fingers tugging at Markus’ sides, scratching a little harder than he’d meant down Markus’ back.

He felt awkwardly, erotically empty, and it made him squirm in want, eyes fixed to Markus, broad shoulders and dark skin and the curve of a smile that made Connor warmer all by itself.

“Yes,” Connor bit out unwillingly, flushed and warm. “But _fuck,_ Markus, angel, you’re gonna be the death of me. Go _faster.”_

His voice caught a little at the end of his protest, and Markus paused.

“It might sting a little,” he warned after a moment, like they hadn’t done far harder a few times already. His hand still worked absently inside Connor, drawing soft whines and pants out of him until his thighs were twitching with want.

Connor took in a shuddering breath. “Damn it, Markus, _fuck me.”_

Arousal flashed across Markus’ face, and without further protest, he pulled his fingers out of Connor, slicked up his shaft, and pressed the tip against Connor’s asshole. Connor gritted his teeth and braced himself.

Even with the preparation, it was still a stretch, which was exactly what Connor had wanted; enough of an ache rang through him that he was sure he’d feel it tomorrow, and it also kept him from feeling quite so _vulnerable._

Connor grimaced and squirmed, feeling Markus’ cock slide into him – slow, _huge,_ and so, so careful still, Markus groaning in quiet pleasure as he rocked into him.

“Oh, you feel so perfect,” Markus rasped, laying quick, distracted kisses over Connor’s face until Connor couldn’t help but relax again. “God, Connor, you’re a wonder, you’re so fucking tight around my cock, and you look, you look…” He shuddered over Connor, mismatched eyes glazed with pleasure and still so _intense._

Connor moaned brokenly, fingers hooking tightly into Markus’ hips, feeling almost that he was being split open, except Markus’ thumb was rubbing a circle around his clit again and it colored the whole thing wonderful. He turned his head to catch Markus’ mouth, a slip of tongue passing between them until Markus abruptly closed his mouth, making Connor grunt in protest.

“Fuck, you’re big,” Connor gasped out instead, holding himself rigid as he adjusted. “Markus, angel…”

“Need me to slow down?” Markus asked gently.

“Faster,” Connor snapped instead, and Markus laughed, eyes crinkling in that way Connor loved, and started to rock in and out almost as soon as he’d bottomed out. Connor moaned openly, one hand dropping down to paw clumsily at his neglected cunt, fingers slipping inside with ease.

It _burned,_ and God, it felt so good. Connor slipped his free hand up from Markus’ hip to his head, dragging him into a messy kiss that Markus finally let himself return; the aphrodisiac in Markus’ saliva made Connor’s blood turn to fire, and he whined into Markus’ mouth, knees hooking around his thighs and demanding that he go faster, deeper, harder.

Markus remained stubbornly slow and cautious, even with the haze of pleasure cast over his face, and one of his hands covered Connor’s at his cunt, playing and teasing around Connor’s thickened clit. A drag of the other’s thumb made Connor whimper, and Markus’ cock dragged against the rim of his ass, dripping slick lube as it pushed back in.

Connor broke away from Markus’ mouth and pressed his lips against his throat.

“Full,” he choked out, and didn’t for a moment stop rubbing at his clit, knuckle-deep in his cunt even as he trembled. Markus grinned at him.

“You should have told me you liked to be stuffed,” Markus purred, and then hissed as he rocked in again, expression wavering with the wave of pleasure. “Something, _ah,_ could’ve been arranged.” Connor whined, and Markus rasped out a laugh, eyes closing and head tipping back in obvious bliss. “Well… I suppose it still can. What do you say, handsome?”

Connor didn’t know how to answer, dragging in labored, panting breaths as he rode each wave of pleasure, but it turned out he didn’t have to. Markus fed two fingers into his mouth, watching with darkened eyes, and Connor accepted them without hesitation, licking desperately and feeling them stroke his mouth and press down on his tongue.

And fuck, there was something stunning about that, about having a cock in his ass and fingers in his mouth and his own buried in his cunt. He groaned around them, vision hazy as he struggled to focus on Markus, and ground his palm against his clit.

“Good boy,” Markus rasped, and Connor shut his eyes, the slight, strained motion of his hips starting to stutter, rubbing Markus’ cock harder against the sensitive walls. Markus’ voice deepened. “Oh, fuck, yes, perfect. Good boy, good boy, good boy, good-”

The two of them came almost in unison, so that Connor, five minutes later, could not have told you which one of them came first. By that time, Markus’ fingers were out of his mouth, and he was petting Connor’s hair and praising him softly, tender and sweet.

It occurred to Connor for the first time that Markus might actually like him. That he might not just be a convenient partner, tended to from the kindness of Markus’ own heart, but an object of- of fondness.

He wondered, dazedly, if Markus might be persuaded to consider him a friend.


	19. Thigh-fucking

At some point, the two of them developed a habit: when Markus was planning on visiting Connor’s dreams so they could just lay together and doze, they slept together in real life, too – sometimes in Connor’s apartment, but usually in Markus’.

Connor got… used to this. It was easy to wake up tangled up with Markus, the covers twisted around them, blinking open heavy eyelids to find his arm thrown across Markus’ chest and one of the other man’s legs sticking out from under the blankets. It was easy to wake up and have Markus stir with him, yawning and rubbing his eyes and smiling tiredly.

It even, maybe, wasn’t as hard as usual to go back to sleep, after he woke up gasping or screaming or jerking around.

It was… nice. It was good.

Connor would miss Markus when the man found someone better.

It was after one of these nights that Connor found himself and Markus cooking breakfast together in Markus’ kitchen, moving around each other with some degree of practice to it after almost two months. Snow drifted by the window, and Connor nearly smiled when he realized it was almost Christmas.

He and Nines always spent Christmas together, and Christmas Eve too. That was usually a good day. A really good day.

Markus slipped in behind Connor, arms wrapping around his stomach, and Connor paused. Markus rested his chin on Connor’s shoulder, and if he concentrated, Connor could just feel his smile.

The corner of Connor’s mouth twitched up to (almost) match.

“You seem happy,” Markus commented, an implied question in his voice.

“I’ll be spending time with my brother soon,” Connor explained, trying to work out how to finish breakfast around Markus’ arms. Markus seemed to notice his issue after a moment and obediently shifted. “We meet up for lunch sometimes, but only really get to spend a lot of time together around the holidays.”

“What’s his name?” Markus asked, unexpectedly interested.

“Nines,” Connor answered instantly, and then, sheepish, “Well, that’s what I call him. It’s a nickname I gave him when we were little. It’s Niles, technically.”

“That’s cute,” Markus remarked, and Connor could feel that he was smiling again. “Does he go by Nines or Niles?”

“…Nines,” Connor admitted, and he really was smiling now. “He graduated law school just a couple years ago. He’s working for a local firm now, but I think he’s aiming higher.” Nines had always on been on the ambitious side.

“You never talk about yourself this much,” Markus noted, turning his head to mouth lightly against Connor’s neck.

 _Neither do you,_ Connor didn’t say, and just took the omelet off the heat. There were some boundaries he didn’t need to push. “Nines and I are close,” was all he said, feeling some of the tension soften out of him. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Markus hummed against Connor’s neck, and Connor let out a low huff.

“Yes,” Markus purred, faintly muffled, and Connor only experienced a moment of confusion before Markus canted his hips against Connor’s.

“Oh,” Connor breathed, and shuffled just enough to be away from the hot part of the stove. _“Oh.”_

Markus laughed quietly, hands dragging slowly down Connor’s stomach to rub at his hips. “You up to it, handsome?” Some of his fingers dipped just below Connor’s waistband as he spoke, and Connor’s eyes slipped shut, warmth seeming to surround him in every way.

“Of course,” Connor breathed, and experimentally rocked back against Markus, ass rubbing deliberately along the other’s front.

Markus hummed in pleasure, moving against Connor in a slow, languid motion, his cock starting to thicken nicely. “I’ve always thought your thighs were very nice,” he murmured into Connor’s ear. “Would you mind if I fucked them?”

Connor suppressed a whine, leaning his weight on the counter. “You can do anything you want to me,” he said honestly, warmth pulsing through his body. He twisted to press a kiss to Markus’ jaw, tongue flicking out to leave a wet mark, and Markus chuckled quietly.

“How is it that you’re always so hot and bothered for me?” he murmured, already starting to tug Connor’s pajama pants down over his hips.

“Boy juice,” Connor said dryly, and Markus let out a startled laugh.

“Touché,” he said warmly, reaching down without hesitation to stroke between Connor’s legs, encouraging him to dampen. His other hand rubbed Connor’s stomach, leaving his pants around his knees. “How’s that feel, sweetheart? Need a little more warming up first?”

Connor wriggled, letting his thighs spread a little and his hips rock deliberately back against Markus’ cock, and smiled even though Markus couldn’t see it.

“Don’t make a habit of it,” he murmured without censure, glancing over his shoulder to see Markus’ soft expression, eyes darkened with desire enough to make Connor’s mouth dry and his cunt wet. Markus’ hard shaft slid between his ass cheeks, sending a hot shiver up Connor’s spine. “Go for it, Markus. Everything you do feels good.”

Markus pressed a surprisingly lingering kiss to Connor’s cheek, his fingers dancing around Connor’s swelling clit, and then with his other hand pulled out his cock. He started to rub it against Connor’s thighs, slow and teasing.

“Is this what you want?” Markus purred. Connor let out a soft, choked whimper, caught off-guard by the sudden tone change, and nodded quickly. Markus drew a picture over Connor’s sex, too quick for Connor to identify it, and he whined. “Do you want my cock, baby boy?”

Connor didn’t realize he could get that wet that quickly, but God, did he, heat throbbing in his stomach. “Yeah,” he breathed, pushing back with increasing insistence. “I want you to _fuck me,_ Markus, please.”

Markus sighed, his hot breath spilling over Connor’s neck, and then he was sliding his shaft carefully between Connor’s thighs. Connor clamped them tightly shut and shivered, feeling his skin rub and pull with the friction. After a moment, he even reached down to cradle the tip of Markus’ cock when it emerged, massaging it with his fingers.

 _“Ah,”_ Markus hissed, bucking forward into Connor’s hand, and Connor grinned over his shoulder, relishing the borderline unfamiliar feeling of his cheeks stretching with it. Markus laughed breathlessly, rocking into him and leaning down to scrape his teeth against Connor’s neck. “I don’t usually think of people as temptations, but…”

Markus was certainly one to talk in that respect. Connor rubbed his thighs together, enjoying the way Markus let out a soft moan, and let the edge of his own palm grind against his hard clit. Markus’ shaft rubbed up against his cunt, Markus’ front still pressed to Connor’s back, and Connor felt so _hot._ His hips twitched down every few seconds, and he had to bite down a quiet whine, Markus’ lips on his neck sending heat spiraling through him.

“Anything,” Connor sighed, turning his head back into Markus’ and the word dropping from his mouth like an oath. Markus cock stroked between his thighs, hot against sensitive skin, and he could feel Markus’ breath catch against his back. “God, I…” Connor cut himself off and braced himself on the counter, rolling his hips back and playing with the head of Markus’ cock under his fingertips, because he couldn’t bring himself to voice what he’d been thinking.

_God, I’d do anything for you._

Markus didn’t seem to notice, start to thrust a little quicker between Connor’s thighs. Uncharacteristically, he seemed more lost in pleasure than Connor did, leaning his weight against Connor’s back and hissing into his ear, squeezing just a little too tight around his waist.

It made Connor smile. He rubbed his thighs together again, felt Markus gasp against his throat and speed up, bucking into the tight space Connor had created. The friction built heat in Connor’s groin, not enough to get off on but enough to make him whine in want, and he rocked back into Markus as the other’s thrusts started to lose rhythm. _“Angel.”_

“Fuck, you’re good, you’re perfect, yes, yes, come on-” Unexpectedly, Markus’ fingers found their way to Connor’s clit and started to rub around it, flawless in their manipulations, and Connor moaned openly, sagging against the counter as his hips rolled into Markus’ hand. “That’s it, baby, just a little more, you can do it, you can- _ah,_ Connor, yes-”

Connor and Markus came in almost perfect, messy unison, falling apart unceremoniously in the middle of the kitchen, and even before Markus steered Connor onto the floor, Connor was already making plans to help clean up later; Markus had spilled all down the cabinet and it was threatening to drip to the floor.

Markus was laughing, and it was at that point that Connor realized he was still showering kisses on Connor’s neck and shoulders.

Connor smiled, leaning into it slightly. “Your food’s probably cold,” he mumbled.

“It’ll be fine,” Markus said breezily, and kissed Connor on the mouth, so hard he seemed to only remember to close his lips at the last minute.


	20. Shower Sex

It was when Connor started to go home with Markus after work that he realized he was sleeping there as often as he slept at his own apartment.

It was something of a stunning realization, and he almost stopped where he was walking, which made Markus glance over at him in question, and then smile, an amused, knowing glimmer in his mismatched eyes. Connor put the thought out of his head, and kept pace again.

But it was strange. It was _funny._ It wasn’t the sex Connor was anticipating – it wasn’t even really the sharing of dreams, right now. It was the chance to _sleep together,_ and Connor… was looking forward to it.

He’d gotten _used_ to it, sleeping beside Markus’ warmth, wrapped up in the covers and someone he trusted just arm’s length away when he was grasping for something to hold. It made it easier to breathe.

They even picked up takeout on the way there, neither of them particularly in the mood to cook, and they ate it on the couch. Markus sat leaning against the arm, watching the TV play a talk show, and Connor curled up against the back, legs pulled up in front of him. And they talked.

“I didn’t think I’d get this far when I started,” Markus confessed, with a chicken finger in his hand dripping with barbecue sauce. “North introduced me to the place, and I started volunteering, but I didn’t, you know, go in intending to run it.” He shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “I just, well, I had ideas.”

“And a lot of motivation,” Connor noted with warmth that surprised even him, playing with his fries. His will to eat was fading, not even out of any anxiety this time – it took everything he had to keep his head from bobbing sleepily. “You… you run the place well.” He’d heard horror stories about some shelters, but Markus’ was warm, and Connor surprised himself by feeling extraordinarily protective of it and its occupants already.

Markus smiled. It was different from his usual, and it took Connor’s tired mind a moment to realize it was because it looked bashful, and perhaps a tad more heartfelt than normal. “That means a lot,” he said sincerely, and then bit into his food.

Connor laughed quietly, and Markus startled a little, looking at him quizzically. Connor shrugged it off, shaking his head, and then said abruptly, “I should introduce you to Nines sometime. It would be embarrassing for all of us if you mistook him for me.”

Markus stared at him for a moment longer, and then his expression softened into another warm smile. “You look alike?” Connor nodded. Markus laughed under his breath at something in Connor’s face, making him quirk his eyebrows up. Markus explained, “You look pretty tired, sweetheart. Maybe we should skip the sex tonight and just go to sleep. I’ll be up for a few more hours, but you look like you can use it.”

Connor stifled a yawn and contemplated it for a moment. If he was tired enough, he could sometimes catch a few hours before he woke up gagging. And if he was quiet, he might not even bother Markus when he did.

“I know you were counting on in-person tonight,” he said haltingly. “That’s better for you, isn’t it?”

Surprise flickered across Markus’ face, and his next smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “A little, but I keep pretty well-fed. It won’t make much difference either way.”

Connor had to strangle another yawn, and it was then that he registered a faint ache in his bones. He bundled up his food and put it in the bag to throw away.

“Yeah,” he sighed, reaching up to rub his face. “Yeah, alright, I’m sorry. Do you mind if I…?”

Markus waved his concerns away, and Connor gratefully got up, tossed his trash, and then ran a perimeter check on Markus’ increasingly familiar apartment. Front door, windows, fire escape, and the lovely balcony Markus had set up with an easel, currently folded up and tucked under cover.

And then he turned back, nodded to Markus, and rolled into bed.

It smelled like Markus, and between one breath and the next, he was dropping off.

* * *

An hour and a half later, he was waking himself up with a shout, already falling off the bed in an unceremonious tangle. Dimly, he registered that Markus hadn’t even gone to bed yet, but it was buried under the roar of his blood in his ears.

On the floor, he clapped a hand over his mouth and gagged on the imaginary taste and texture of sand in his mouth, and in a long-healed gunshot graze, and the _rot-_

He gagged again, swallowed hard, and then threw the covers back over the bed without looking, weaving through the apartment blindly towards the shower. He just barely had it in him to be grateful that this, too, was part of the routine when he slept over.

Connor had nightmares every night, and he hadn’t spent the night with anyone but Nines since that had become true. Except Markus.

Markus, angel that he was, seemed to understand.

Connor turned the shower on, stripped down, and stepped inside, the water just a little bit too hot for comfort. It comforted _him,_ and that was what was important; he didn’t even scrub himself down, just leaned against the wall and let it run down his back.

Ten minutes passed before the bathroom door creaked open, and Connor jumped, turning his gaze up towards Markus, who smiled at him apologetically.

“Company?” Markus asked in a soft undertone, leaning against the sink a comfortable distance away. Connor stared at him tiredly through the steamy glass, and then reached over to push the door open, inviting him in.

What an odd thought. It was Markus’ own home, after all.

Markus stripped down quickly, though, and slid inside, closing the door behind him. Laid a chaste kiss on Connor’s mouth, and murmured, “It’s all far away now.”

Connor took a short, shallow breath and nodded tightly. Then he rocked into Markus and kissed him back, an almost instinctive form of comfort-seeking now, and their bodies, wet and sticky under the running water, rubbed against each other. Connor hummed absentmindedly, hands dropping unthinkingly to Markus’ hips.

Then Markus opened his mouth in silent invitation, and Connor hesitated for only a split second before accepting, deepening the kiss greedily. Their tongues rubbed together, both their eyes closed against the water streaming down their faces.

Markus pressed Connor gently against the porcelain wall, his head just shielding Connor’s face from the worst of the spray, and Connor’s breath hitched, tugging Markus’ hips to grind against his.

They broke apart panting. Connor could already feel his blood starting to run hot, and he dipped his head to mouth against Markus’ neck, sucking lightly at the skin there until Markus’ cock started to thicken against him.

“My perfect angel,” he mumbled, breath still threatening to catch uncomfortably even as he let Markus’ hands run over his skin, the water splashing down his chest and running in streams down his legs. “God, fuck, you- you’re so-” He clenched his jaw, rubbed his cheek just lightly against Markus’ jaw, and felt his heart start to race with unnatural arousal until the streams of water themselves were teasing and erotic. He shivered, letting some of the tension melt out of him. “I don’t know how to-”

His emotions were too complicated to express while he was so disconcerted still, too wrapped up in exhaustion and fear and nausea, and his tongue fumbled around his words. Markus just hummed comfortingly, rocking into him until Connor was moaning softly instead, arousal fogging up his thoughts, rolling up in waves from Markus’ thigh between his.

Markus started to slip, and Connor caught him without thinking, holding him close until Markus steadied himself on the handrails and gave him a sheepish, shadowed grin that Connor barely registered.

…Why did Markus’ shower have handrails?

Connor glanced down, mind conjuring up memories of the scars around Markus’ knees, but Markus quickly distracted him with another deep, wet kiss, and god, Connor could never turn down kisses from Markus – could never bring himself to do anything but melt into them, sighing softly. One of his hands slid down to Markus’ ass and urged him closer, and Markus rocked against him, cock sliding over his hip and water splashing over him to trickle between them, still burning hot.

“Everything is okay,” Markus crooned. One of his hands was still curled around a handrail, but the other slid up Connor’s chest, thumb rubbing across a nipple, eyes focused intently on Connor. “There’s just you and me here, and we have all…” He laid another kiss on Connor’s neck, earning a whimper as Connor’s hips starting to rock almost involuntarily on his thigh. “The time.” Another kiss on Connor’s collarbone, and Connor bucked so hard he slipped a little, caught himself without looking, and grimaced as the shower sprayed over his face. Markus laughed quietly. “In the world.”

Connor nodded distractedly, dropping his other hand to shamelessly squeeze Markus’ ass. Markus shuddered against him, cock twitching, and grazed his teeth against Connor’s neck.

“Markus,” he sighed, dragging Markus into a slow grind until they were humping wetly, Connor’s own slick almost indistinguishable from the shower’s water. Steam swirled around them, warm and foggy, making their panting hotter and heavier until Connor’s voice was catching on a moan. “Fuck, Markus, you’re so good, so good to me, you know exactly what to do and say and exactly how to touch me and you, you- _uhh,_ Markus, angel…”

Markus slipped again and Connor caught him without looking, bracing himself on the wall even as he whimpered softly. Markus muttered oaths and swearwords under his breath, caught his balance, and leaned into Connor, hands clamping onto his elbows tightly. Connor moaned dizzily, eyes fixing on Markus with hazy want.

“Need your cock,” Connor begged breathlessly, and he knew it was Markus’ drugged saliva forcing that heat into his brain but it didn’t make him want it any less. Shower water spilled over both of them in streams and it felt so good and he was gasping for breath, just short of it in the humid air. Markus thrust against him with a grunt, and he gasped with pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, oh, yes, there, there it is…” His hips bucked wantonly, and Markus huffed out a ragged laugh.

“Don’t usually fuck in the shower, but…” he mumbled, and then guided his cock into Connor despite the awkward angle. Connor whined, trying to clamp down around it even as it spread him open, and felt Markus groan against his collarbone. “Love my cock that much, do you, handsome?”

Connor nodded desperately, bouncing a little in place without dislodging Markus. “Yes, shit yes, angel, you feel so good inside me. Never felt anything like it. I want, I want…”

He trailed off, but Markus picked it up anyway, starting to rock into him, his thick cock dragging slowly in and out of Connor while his back pressed against the porcelain shower wall. Connor moaned openly, wanting to hike him closer with his legs but unwilling to risk it in the slippery stall.

“Markus, Markus, Markus,” he chanted softly, foggy and disconcerted and needy, feeling Markus kiss his neck and wet hair rubbing against his cheek. He was so _warm._

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Markus crooned, his voice sunk into an aroused rasp as his hips rubbed against Connor’s. “You must be getting so close, feeling so good…”

His voice wavered at the end, threatening to break, and his thrusts weren’t as hard as they normally would be when his voice reached that point, his grip still rock-solid on Connor’s forearms. Connor let his arms stay in place, limp and sturdy, and just grunted, hips twitching forward as his arousal built.

“So good,” he mumbled, clit throbbing for touch enough to make him gasp with want. “Markus, can I come? I wanna come-”

He didn’t know why he asked for permission, just that he felt he desperately needed it, that he couldn’t have that release until he was sure he deserved it- either way it made Markus groan, low and throaty.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Markus purred, and Connor did, gasping and shaking apart on Markus’ cock, bucking and whining as his mind whited out. Markus rocked steadily into him, wringing him out, until Connor was whimpering with discomfort, and then he pulled out, murmuring soft praise already.

Without even thinking about it, then, Connor guided Markus’ hands from Connor’s forearms to the handrail, dropped to his knees, and started kissing and lapping at Markus’ cock.

Markus came in less than a minute, knuckles pale with the force of his grip on the railing.


	21. Cock-warming

The end of fall term finals left Connor anxious and exhausted and unwilling to even try to sleep. Markus was surprisingly sympathetic, and suggested first that he take a bath, then that he read for a while, then that he talk to Nines.

“It’s not Saturday,” Connor muttered sullenly, bouncing in place and playing with a coin, aware he was being stupid and childish and- “I talk to Nines on Saturdays.”

He felt agitated and unhappy and unmanageable. Markus took a deep breath, smiled at him patiently enough that Connor flinched, almost taking a step away, and then considered for a while and eventually asked,

“Would it help to have something in your mouth?” Connor nodded reluctantly. “Do you have one of your toys with you?” Connor shook his head. “Would you want to go get one?” Connor shook his head again. He wanted- he wanted to be with Markus. Markus made him feel- Markus smiled at him gently, placed a hand on his lap, and asked, “Have you heard of cock-warming?”

Connor had. He wavered on his feet, wanting to pace but almost entranced by the idea, and then, decisively, nodded. Markus’ smile softened.

Abruptly, Connor turned away, and heard Markus’ breath hitch a little before it became clear that Connor was just checking the perimeter. He knew he couldn’t settle down until he did. And God, he wanted to settle down.

He was _tired._ He was tired and he was tired of being _anxious._

He wavered again when he was back by the couch, but Markus just scooted to one edge and invited him with a sweep of his hand and a soft, “Lay down. I’ll put a movie on.” And Connor did.

Markus only spent a minute navigating through the channels to put something on, and Connor wasn’t even paying attention, hiding his face in Markus’ stomach to try and block the world out, too much, too bright, too loud. Markus’ hand came up to his hair and ran through it soothingly, and Connor tried to settle. He tried.

He didn’t even move to pull Markus out until Markus did it himself, unbuttoning his pants and pulling out his soft cock. His other hand ran through Connor’s hair again, and he murmured, “Only if you want, sweetheart.”

Without replying, Connor opened his mouth and tentatively took the flaccid flesh into his mouth, letting the weight of it rest on his tongue. It was a little big for comfort, forcing his mouth open and loose, and he sucked carefully, ignoring the way Markus took in a sharp, shivery breath.

Slowly, some of the tension drained out of Connor, and he let himself relax onto Markus’ lap, mouth full.

Connor was surprised by how much he liked it, but Markus was getting to know him well. And Connor did like having things in his mouth, sucking and mouthing and holding them, feeling safe and warm and good.

And he drifted.

He ended up stretched across most of Markus’ couch with his head cradled in the crook of one arm, in the incubus’ lap, most of Markus’ cock in his mouth and the man’s fingers still in his hair, stroking gently. The third movie that evening was running in the background, and Connor had already forgotten what the other two had been. He had already forgotten what this one was.

He felt. He felt nice. Dreamy.

Markus tugged at his hair, and Connor obediently bobbed his head, taking a little more of Markus’ cock just to hear the man sigh in pleasure. He hummed, feeling warm and pleased, and relaxed again, suckling quietly.

He felt wet and aroused, but there was nothing urgent about it; he was just _warm,_ a faint blanket of pleasure settling over him. His jaw was getting sore, but that was fine too. He knew without even asking that Markus would know how to help him later, would rub his cheeks or kiss him or soothe him to sleep, and he would feel better.

He really loved Markus.

He was, Connor realized dimly, _in love_ with Markus, wanted to stay with him forever, wanted to be surrounded by him and have his fingers in his hair and hear his quiet laugh muffled in the middle distance.

He wanted _Markus._

God, Markus could never know.

He couldn’t even quite summon up the energy to get anxious or agitated right now; Markus tugged at his hair again, and Connor turned his head to swallow Markus’ cock, heard Markus groan in delight, his half-hard cock stiffening a little more, and almost smiled.

Connor rubbed his thighs together, his warmth ratcheting up a little, and then settled as Markus’ fingers carded through his hair. Markus felt so good.

He loved Markus. He loved Markus. He felt so safe surrounded by Markus.

He sucked a little harder, and Markus groaned again, bucking lightly.

“Getting impatient down there?” Markus asked with a slight catch to his voice. Connor moaned softly, bobbing of his own volition to take more, and Markus’ hand formed the lightest of fists. “There we go, baby. You’re so good with your mouth.”

Connor whimpered, bringing a hand up to paw sleepily at the base of Markus’ cock, hand dipping into the waistband of his jeans just to thumb at his hot balls. Markus grunted in pleasure, bucking up again, and pulled Connor’s head closer.

“That’s it, monsieur,” Markus breathed, and when Connor glanced up his eyes were half-lidded in pleasure. Connor hummed, bobbing again, and brought his other hand up to stroke what he couldn’t take, sleepily milking Markus. He wanted… he wanted…

He pressed his tongue up, lapping at Markus’ cock, and Markus moaned. Connor loved that sound. He wanted to hear more. He felt, he felt… God, he felt so much. How had he failed to realize he felt so much?

He loved Markus. Connor loved Markus. Now that he realized it he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Markus pulled at his head, groaning loudly, and Connor moaned around him as his mouth was abruptly filled, the head of Markus’ cock rubbing against the roof of his mouth, and heat dripping down to his sticky cunt even as he felt no urge to reach for it.

“Take everything, baby,” Markus rasped, bucking up and blatantly fucking into Connor’s mouth now, taking advantage of Connor’s loosened, if sore jaw. “God, you take me so perfect, handsome, your mouth is so good and hot, your arousal is so _sweet_ and you love this so much…”

Markus pulled him closer until Connor gagged and choked, holding him loosely enough that Connor knew he could pull away if he wanted. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to choke on Markus’ cock, convulsing and whimpering and tearing up, clit throbbing hotly, thick and full inside Connor’s pants. Markus groaned, thrusting into Connor’s mouth almost carelessly.

“So good for me, Connor,” Markus gasped out, eyes half-lidded and somehow looking almost as infatuated as Connor felt, finally letting Connor up to gasp for breath before pulling him back down even harder. “Oh, ohh, so good, so sweet, so lovely, I’m- Connor- _ahh-”_

He came down Connor’s throat, and Connor swallowed all of it, obedient and meek, tears leaking down his cheek. He lapped at Markus’ cock until it stopped twitching and softened, and then let it flop out of his mouth.

He still felt _amazing,_ arousal mixing with submissiveness mixing with adoration, and Markus’ grin, eyes sparkling, seemed to double it all.

Markus’ fingers returned to Connor’s hair, and Connor let his eyes drift shut in bliss as Markus murmured, “You did so well, Connor, I’m so proud of you, you’ve learned to take such good care of yourself…”

God, Markus took such good care of Connor.

He couldn’t risk losing him. Not for anything.


	22. Feet

Markus invited Connor out to dinner. Connor told himself that this was a normal thing for good friends to do – and maybe Markus was a good friend by now – and continued to tell himself that until he could convince himself he believed it.

He still felt bad about accepting; Markus didn’t know Connor was in love with him, so he didn’t know how Connor felt about it, and if he knew he’d surely be uncomfortable.

But Connor just- couldn’t bring himself to refuse and hurt both of them for so little reason. For just a chance.

(He _wanted_ it; he was selfish.)

It was there, over their meals, that Connor asked a question he’d been curious about for a while, twisting his pasta around his fork without looking at Markus. Every time he met Markus’ eyes now his heart skipped a beat, and paranoia told him that Markus knew.

“What is it about sex that feeds you?” he asked, soft enough and from a busy enough corner that no one was likely to overhear.

Markus blinked at him, clearly startled, and then his face tightened. Before Connor could take it back, Markus glanced around, quickly performing the same check Connor had before asking, and then relaxed just a little and gave Connor a tense smile.

“It’s the arousal,” he said at last, just as quiet. “My partner’s arousal, specifically, not my own. Better with physical contact, best during climax, and…” He tipped his head toward Connor with a faint smile. “Better in person than in dreams.”

Connor nodded thoughtfully, chewed and swallowed, and opened his mouth to ask another question before he froze. Took another bite, and then leaned back to glance down between his legs.

There was Markus’ shoe, tapping at his knee and creeping slowly up his thigh. Connor leaned forward again, fixed his gaze on Markus’, and held it.

Then he took a careful breath, checked visibility – negligible from their corner – and spread his legs like he was needy for it, which he… often was, if he was honest. He was already starting to feel arousal spark between his legs, his cheeks heating up self-consciously.

This was normal. This was normal. For him and Markus, at least, this was normal, not- not romantic in any way- Connor was just. Helping.

Markus smirked at him, smug, and pressed his foot between Connor’s thighs. Connor bit his cheek, but pressed on.

“How often do you need it?” he asked, trying not to focus too much on the slow rub of the tip of Markus’ shoe, stroking up and down his slit. (He was failing.)

Markus pressed a little harder, and then hummed. Took a bite of his own food, chewed, swallowed, and then answered, “I go for every day, but strictly speaking, maybe closer to five or six times a week. It varies a little depending on quality and duration, of course.”

God, Connor would never be able to get over how Markus could turn his mind to liquid with so little touch. He could feel heat gathering in his cheeks and his weight leaning against the table as Markus’ foot rubbed down his thigh and back up to his cunt. “Do you… _ah,_ do you need it for other things?” The soft moan that slipped out had his cheeks heating up further, and he glanced furtively up to see if anyone had heard. But he couldn’t be certain.

He bit down a whimper, rocking softly down against Markus’ foot. His skin tingled and begged for touch. Markus smirked at him.

“I’ll be young for a good while,” Markus said casually. “I mean, I’m thirty and still look a few years younger, but it’ll be more pronounced as I age. And… it’s good for healing, if I need.”

He pressed his foot firmly into Connor’s cunt, and Connor bit his cheek so hard he tasted blood, almost able to feel his eyes glaze over with arousal. His breath just hitched, though.

He wondered if there would be a wet spot at his crotch when he got up.

“How do you know, who told youuu-” Connor bit his tongue as Markus pressed his foot into him again, squeezing his eyes shut as his groin pulsed wetly, throbbing against Markus’ foot. He squirmed against it, gasping quietly into his hand.

“…My mother,” Markus admitted, with enough reluctance to surprise Connor even through the thick fog of his aroused thoughts. Markus wasn’t looking at him, he registered. “I lived with her before I did Carl, but she thought I’d be better off if I had time to… integrate.”

He let that lie for a minute, and then glanced up to smile at Connor, soft and teasing.

“Arousal has a taste, too,” he cooed, unprompted and eyes half-lidded with poorly veiled desire. “And you taste so sweet, darling, like a baked treat, spiced and soft and eager…” Connor bit down a whine, hips pressing forward into Markus’ teasing foot, and Markus’ smile turned into a smirk, rubbing harder into Connor’s throbbing cunt, his thick clit. “I can’t get enough of it, and you always seem to taste of it, like you bring that with you wherever you go, always _wanting…”_

 _“Markus,”_ Connor croaked, as quietly as he could because he couldn’t bite down the arousal in his voice. Markus’ eyes glittered, and it was beautiful enough to make Connor’s breath catch, to make him dizzy.

“And the feel is sandpaper smooth,” he purred, the movement of his foot relentless, unstoppable, wringing out Connor’s thoughts until he was panting and juicy and helpless, “and that’s a good thing, handsome, that’s a wonderful thing, it makes me so eager for more. Just feeling your arousal is enough to turn me on most of the time. That’s not always true, you know, but God, do I look forward to you, am I looking forward to you now, taking you home and spreading you over my bed and…”

Instead of elaborating, he glanced up at Connor, smiled, and blew him a kiss, eyes dark with obvious and undisguised lust.

Connor whimpered into his palm, imagined Markus fucking him for real as soon as they went home, and came against his foot, shivering silently and tears of overwhelm pricking at his eyes.

When he leaned back to glance down, Markus was rock hard in his pants, with only the barest pretense of a cloth napkin across his lap covering it up. Connor swallowed.

No one around them was any the wiser – he confirmed it with a quick glance around, and leaned back again, cheeks still hot.

He couldn’t wait to get ho- back to Markus’.

Just Markus’ apartment, because they weren’t together, and Markus didn’t love him and he never would.


	23. Tentacles

“I haven’t gotten many chances to push my limits like this,” Markus mused, fingers traced pictures over Connor’s chest, and Connor smiled with some embarrassment, leaning slightly into the touch.

“It’ll be a learning experience, then,” Connor ventured, and Markus laughed, making something flutter in Connor’s chest.

“It certainly will be that,” Markus murmured, eyes dark with interest and looking Connor slowly up and down, enough right now to make Connor tingle with want.

This fantasy was really an idea they’d formed together, more so than most of the others; Connor had been interested in how far Markus could push the limits of reality in the dreams he controlled, and Markus had admitted that he hadn’t tried much more than what his current partner wanted at any given time. He’d seemed… interested, in pushing further.

Connor had also asked about the demon form Markus had worn before, months and months ago now.

 _“It’s a true form of mine, technically,”_ Markus had told him, slow and thoughtful, _“but I can only wear it in dreams. Half-incubus apparently isn’t enough to take that form physically.”_ And then he’d smiled mischievously, and he’d asked, _“Did you like it?”_

(Connor had.)

Now Connor’s dream was dim and damp and warm, the air thick in a pleasant and calming sort of way. There was enough light to see by still, and he could see the horns at the sides of Markus’ head again, the subtle narrowness of his pupils, the claws at his fingertips and his bat-like wings and his _tail._

And his smile before he brought his hand up to cup Connor’s cheek, leaned forward, and kissed him with almost tangible desire, lips sliding against Connor’s. Connor kissed him back without hesitation, hands coming up to fist against his back, and suppressed a shiver as he felt something start to creep up his calves, warm and thick and slippery.

Tentacles were technically a little cheesy, and Markus hadn’t been able to hide his laugh at the suggestion. But Connor, it developed, had his fantasies, and Markus was _very_ indulgent.

The firm vines curled around his legs at a patient sort of pace, circling up over his knees and then his thighs. Then there were more, wrapping around his stomach like a hug, squeezing just enough to make arousal swoop in Connor’s stomach and have him let out a gasp against Markus’ mouth. Then his elbows and his upper arms, and Markus let him go just to step back and smirk as Connor was lifted off his feet.

“Is this what you were hoping for, sweetheart?” Markus purred, eyes glimmering with very visible pleasure already. Connor could see his cock starting to twitch and thicken, lust make his gaze into a leer.

Connor tested the grip of the vines, finding very little give in them, and shuddered lightly. His gaze flicked down to Markus, half-lidded already, and he swallowed.

“Absolutely,” he rasped, biting down a whimper as one tendril slid between his thighs, cradling his sex against the slick surface. He tried to drive his elbows back and push himself upright, but mostly just succeeded in arching against nothing, unable to find leverage. He also ground his clit unexpectedly against the limb under him, and hissed, arousal spiking up into his belly. “Fuck, you’re going to _wreck_ me.”

Markus laughed. “I must be doing a good job if that’s become your line instead of mine,” he murmured, and the next thing Connor knew he was close again, smirking down at Connor, running a hand over his thigh, burningly hot. “Safe code, sweetheart?”

“Biting the feeler,” Connor croaked, resisting the urge to drop his head back and let it just hang in the air. His breath was coming heavy, fingers flexing against nothing, his weight held up by the tendrils around his thighs and arms and stomach. And it felt _good._

Markus was such a pretty angel.

Markus smiled at him, and then he was up too, seated above Connor on a set of vines like a swing. One of his hands dropped to his cock, stroking idly as he watched, and Connor couldn’t help the way his eyes locked to the sight, heart racing.

He had to be dripping already; he was too turned-on to be otherwise. He tried to rub himself against the tendril under him, but he couldn’t get any _damn_ leverage.

He was helpless. The thought made him groan, soft and stifled.

“You got worked up so quickly this time,” Markus crooned, drawing Connor’s attention back up, as if it had ever really drifted. He was still smiling smugly, his tail waving and swinging gently underneath him, horns gleaming in the dim light. “Were you that excited for this idea, baby? You should have said something sooner. I’m all on board for anything that’ll get you this worked up.”

“Didn’t really think about it,” Connor murmured, squirming just a little in the vines’ grip. The one pressed against his cunt squirmed, he felt several others pull his thighs forcibly apart, another curled ever-so-gently around his neck… He let out a shaky gasp, trying to buck into the air again. “Fuck, Markus, you don’t need to move so _slow.”_

“Patience, patience,” Markus teased, but the tendrils started working faster then, under Markus’ watchful gaze. The one settled around his neck rubbed along his collarbone like the firm heel of a hand; the ones around his thighs pulsed and throbbed, and through no doing of his own, Connor found himself starting to gently rub against the large vine between his legs, back and forth, slow and grinding.

He could definitely tell how wet he was now, and he almost couldn’t tell if the throb of the vine was the heartbeat of an imaginary beast or his own fluttering pulse. He moaned in pleasure, letting Markus move Connor’s body as he liked, like a puppet. Each point of contact pulsed with warmth, sending a light and dizzying ripple through his body.

Markus was still stroking his cock steadily, eyes steamy. “You look so happy, handsome,” he chuckled, not bothering to hide the rasp of arousal in his voice. “Is this what you wanted, to be made helpless in your own dreams? To be forced into pleasure without any say?”

Connor nodded without thinking, breath coming in a rasp even as he opened his mouth the moment a tendril started to tap at his lips, asking for entry. It paused for a moment, and Connor opened his eyes to look up at Markus hazily.

“No one makes me feel like you do,” Connor said quietly. Markus’ expression softened, but he didn’t move to answer, and when Connor opened his mouth again, the modestly sized vine slipped in, comfortably filling his mouth and pressing his tongue down.

It pulsed, too, warm and throbbing, and Connor whimpered, mind fogging up, ready to lose himself in the steady heartbeat of Markus’ creation. He bucked weakly against the limb below, grinding and wanton.

He was so fucking _hard._

“Oh, _sweetheart,”_ Markus moaned openly, spreading his legs to stroke himself a little faster. “You look so good like that, baby. I could just keep you like this forever.”

Yes. Yes. God, Connor could hang here forever, teased and warm and bound and surrounded by Markus, the largest tendril moving aside so another could start to work inside his cunt. His legs were pulled further apart, his hips tipped up on display for Markus, and Connor could just watch Markus stare, his own eyes half-lidded and mouth full.

Connor’s shaky moan was muffled by the vine this time. The ones at his arms didn’t even have enough give for him to _try_ to reach out. He wanted to rock down against the tendril thrusting steadily into him, but he couldn’t. It throbbed, too, and Connor fancied that he could feel it in his chest. In his entire body.

Fuck, he was so close already.

Markus was jerking off in earnest now, mouth hanging open to pant, straddling a vine to ease his access to himself even as he never once took his eyes off Connor. “Aren’t you a good boy, taking everything so _sweetly_ for me. Does it feel good, baby? Do my feelers feel good in all your lovely sensitive holes?” Connor nodded dazedly, squirming and flexing in suspension, and Markus choked on a moan, tail curling. “Oh, beautiful, do you want more? Do you want to be stuffed?”

Connor nodded again without hesitation, and didn’t protest when he was hauled up a little further, perfectly exposed for Markus. For Markus to watch. Because Markus wanted to, and he’d asked, and fuck, Connor felt _hot,_ sticky with sweat.

The tendril in his cunt was squirming, pushing against his inner walls even as it throbbed, rubbing inside him exactly, exactly right, winding him tighter and tighter until he was lightheaded.

It followed almost exactly the pattern Markus liked to with his fingers, was the thing that stuck in Connor’s overheated brain.

Connor moaned, muffled and hungry, and felt another, thinner tendril start to rub cautiously against his back entrance. Markus was biting his lip, squeezing his cock and actually pausing in his stroking. Connor squirmed, pulled at the vines binding his arms, and watched through blurred vision.

Markus was so _fucking_ pretty.

The thin tendril pushed inside, and Connor moaned again, much louder, the cloudy feeling spreading to fill his whole body with a foggy sort of pleasure. The two vines rubbed against each other through his taint, grinding until arousal sparked through him like a live wire, and his hips twitched weakly, the edge of his clit catching the vine spilling from his cunt. The vines at his stomach and thighs continued to pulse and rub against him, stroking his body gently, setting his skin shivering.

 _Markus_ continued to stroke his body gently, with a dozen hands, filling him up and dizzying him and the one in his ass was starting to thrum now, slowly swelling until it was almost painful. Tears beaded up in Connor’s eyes, and he tossed his head back, mouth still full, and wailed weakly, more of a muffled cry with the vine stifling his voice.

It felt so _good._ Markus was such a good fucking angel for him.

“Good boy,” Markus moaned, and Connor could see him reaching down to rub his balls along with his cock, stroking and tugging quick and almost frantic, eyes fixed to Connor’s helpless form. “Good boy, Connor, you’re so close, aren’t you?”

He was. He was _so fucking close,_ and the hot throb of his aroused body almost blended in with the pulse of the dream beast. Connor lapped weakly at the vine in his mouth, unable to communicate his agreement otherwise, but Markus shuddered and licked dry lips.

The tendril pressed harder against Connor’s clit, and then suddenly he wasn’t just full, he was being _fucked,_ every motion of the tendrils around him perfectly paced and in time with each other. His body was shoved onto the vines just as they thrust into him; each thrust sent a ripple effect of stroking, throbbing stimulation out from his cunt, like a stone in a lake. It was all so easy to lose himself in, sucking earnestly at the tendril filling his mouth, rocking his hips as much as he could into the sensual motions, feeling his body wind tighter and tighter.

He could hear Markus starting to groan, loud and shameless and erotic, but Connor couldn’t even bring himself to open his eyes and watch Markus come. Fuck, he felt so _fucking_ good, he felt so, he was going to-

The vine in his cunt swelled abruptly, like a knot, and he threw his head back and came with a muffled, needy cry, his entire body shuddering in the vines’ grasp. It went on and on, the feelers in his cunt and ass and around his thighs milking every ounce of pleasure from him until his was shaking and whining, twitching with overstimulation. And only then did Markus let him down.

He could even hear the thump of Markus dropping from his perch, and then the other was kneeling beside him – Connor could feel his knees against Connor’s side, and then his fingers in his hair, and he couldn’t, really couldn’t, do anything but lean into the touch, still taking in heaving, shuddering gasps of breath.

Markus just stroked his hair for a moment, and then cupped his face in one hand, then in two, thumbs rubbing over Connor’s cheeks until Connor winced at the feeling, when he switched to a simple hold and called softly, “That was beautiful, sweetheart, you were lovely. Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

Connor absolutely did not have words right now, but he forced his eyes open, reached up clumsily to paw at one of Markus’ hands, and just managed to bring it to his mouth to press a sloppy kiss to his palm.

Then he let go, slumping back down, and smiled dreamily at Markus, who laughed.

“I’ll take that as a positive, hm?” he said warmly, and the warm, damp room shivered away around them into a more ordinary bedroom, fluffy and still dark.

Just before Markus could shimmer his demon form away too, Connor reached out again to snag his tail, and pulled it closer just to press a light, lazy kiss to the spiked tip, maintaining deliberate eye contact with Markus.

Markus’ entire expression melted into open affection, and when he picked Connor up to lay him in the bed, he dropped down behind Connor, hugged him to his chest, and wrapped his wings around them both alongside his arms.

Too giddy and lightheaded for pretense, Connor pressed into Markus’ arms, sighing happily at the embrace, feeling small and safe and cared for and god. God, he loved Markus so much.


	24. Omorashi

Connor always felt ragged and overworked during finals week.

It was a manufactured feeling, he was aware; he was well capable of passing his classes by a generous margin, particularly with the amount of work he always put into studying, day by day and week by week, always strictly scheduled. But there was something about finals week that always overwhelmed him, and he poured everything into his studies as if his mother was looking over his shoulder again.

He knew this spilled over into his work life, to a certain extent; it was harder to remember to visit Lucy, he socialized less with the residents, was distracted talking to the other staff. For the most part, they left him to it, which was kind, and Connor made it through the term with his mental health… well, as intact as it had been at the start.

It was Markus’ idea to celebrate the end of the last test as soon as Connor came home, and Connor realized with an odd twinge that-

First, that he had gone to Markus’ apartment instead of his own, instinctively.

And second, that Markus had arranged to be home by then as well, which meant that he had left work early. Markus grinned at him when he entered, eyes sparkling, unaccountably pleased, and without thinking, Connor smiled back, cocking his head in unspoken question.

“I wondered,” Markus said loftily in response, leaning over the arm of the couch with an undeniably lascivious smirk, “if you might want to _celebrate_ the end of term.”

The purr in the sentence made his meaning clear, even if the smirk had left any room for doubt. Connor blinked at him, still coming off his odd stress high, but after a moment managed a small, faintly indulgent smile. It didn’t quite hide his nervousness, affection mixing with desire mixing with anxiety, but that was ordinary enough, for him.

“Sounds nice,” Connor conceded softly, reaching up to rub his face and registering the harsh pressure in his bladder. “Just let me, ah, put my stuff away and go to the bathroom and-”

Markus moved quick enough that it might have startled someone else, but Connor tracked him without difficulty, and then Markus was in front of him, hand on Connor’s, making his heart skip a beat. He was still smiling.

“I don’t think there’s a need for that,” Markus murmured, leaning his weight into Connor in a way that was easy to support and left him almost draped against Connor, eyes bright and crinkled with excitement. One of his hands dropped, fingers pressing delicately to the flesh over Connor’s waistband, bringing a tingle under his skin. “You can take care of anything you need while we play, can’t you?”

That took Connor a moment to comprehend, and then he flushed, heat rising rapidly into his cheeks, lust crashing together with the insistent pressure down below. He swallowed and nodded, unable to look away from Markus’ pretty mismatched eyes.

“I-if you’re sure,” Connor breathed, slowly bending down just enough to drop his bag on the ground. Markus’ smirk widened into a grin, and he leaned up to press a kiss to Connor’s cheek.

“Just want to give you leave to relax, handsome,” he explained, and then he was pulling Connor into the bedroom while Connor was still remembering how to smile.

Markus took a moment once they were in there to throw a towel over the bed, which made Connor flush again, and then he was pushing Connor into the bed and kissing all over his face until Connor was squirming, reaching up to cling to Markus’ clothing and tug him closer.

“Markus, you’re really- what are you-” Connor managed, trying to turn his face into every kiss at once even as he didn’t take his eyes off Markus.

This kind of affection was just- just so _Markus,_ but Connor was still stunned. It was almost enough to make him tremble, helpless under the sheer force of it and crippled by his own affection rising up in response. Markus grinned at him, and Connor’s heart fluttered.

“I’ve barely seen you all week,” Markus explained, rubbing his face against Connor’s shoulder, hands pushing up under his shirt, burning hot and electric. His hips rubbed against Connor’s, pushing his thighs apart to sit between them, and hummed. “I have to make sure you haven’t got bored.”

Connor let out something like a helpless laugh, tipping his head back as Markus pushed his shirt up and started kissing his stomach. “How could I- Markus, I just- _oh-”_ His lost his train of thought as Markus sucked a hickey into his abdomen, and instead clamped his knees shut around Markus’ hips. His bladder ached in protest, and Connor had to bite down a guilty, mortified whimper, hips bucking up into Markus. _“Mm-_ I didn’t, didn’t mean to ignore you.”

He started to fumble with Markus’ shirt, getting it open, and Markus let him, stretching up to let Connor pull it off him. “No worries, Connor, I know you’ve been busy. But…”

He ground his hips into Connor’s, hard, and Connor gasped, feeling his t-dick wake up and take notice of the stimulation. Connor swallowed and nodded, and when Markus pulled his shirt over his head, Connor cooperated.

It was so much, so fast, and Markus’ skin was burning hot against Connor’s, smooth under his hands, and Connor couldn’t get enough.

Markus was right. It had been a long week.

The towel was rough against Connor’s back when he plopped back down, and he ground into it when he arched his hips up to let Markus strip his jeans off him, fumbling with Markus’ own. He could see the start of a bulge at the front, not hard yet, and Markus’ eyes were smoldering with anticipation, cheeks subtly darkened with lust.

They got Markus’ pants off, and then Markus rolled them both over, bringing Connor on top. Markus grinned at him.

“Up to it?” he asked lightly, and Connor nodded without hesitation.

The pressure in his gut made him just a little hypersensitive, every movement of his hips exaggerating itself as he held it in. He rubbed his slit along Markus’ cock experimentally, hips rolling with the ease of long practice, encouraging it to wake up, and nuzzled down to nip and kiss at Markus’ collarbone. Markus’ hands wandered up and down his back and then kneaded into his ass until he gasped against Markus’ skin, feeling his cock twitch and fill out.

It felt good; it was familiar and easy, and it felt _good._

“God, I’ve missed you, angel,” Connor breathed, not quite able to control the quick twitches of his hips now, t-dick thick and hard and grinding into Markus with abandon, his thighs wanting to clamp together to hold his bladder back. He choked on a moan, groin tingling with want, watching Markus’ hungry expression. “Did you- back when this first happened, did you... want to do this again?”

Markus threw his head back into the mattress and laughed, not denying it. “I thought you might, _ah,_ be a little too self-conscious to agree if I a-asked,” he admitted, carefree and shameless. His hands were on Connor’s hips now, encouraging his grinding on Markus’ cock, speeding up as Connor’s slick rubbed over the thick shaft.

Connor hummed, low and unmistakably needy. “It is kind of, um…” He whimpered, feeling his bladder twinge, and his hips thrust forward, crushing his clit into Markus, sending pleasure rippling up into his stomach. “E-embarrassing.”

And hot. God, fuck, it was hot, the shame and the worry and the knowledge that Markus _wanted-_ fuck. Connor pushed his face into the crook of Markus’ neck and choked on another moan, hips moving a little faster against Markus. Another curse slipped out when Markus squeezed his ass smugly.

“I know, sweetheart,” Markus crooned, pulling Connor into him until he was rocking faster, helpless to the feelings wracking his body. “But you, _hah,_ you like that, don’t you? You like being embarrassed.”

“Oh fuck,” Connor choked out, pushing himself into Markus until he was rubbing along him like a cat, watching Markus’ smirking face even as Markus’ cock throbbed under him. “Yes, okay, yes, I like it. I like to feel, I like…” He stammered to a stop, but he was wet and hot and panting, and Markus’ hands were so firm on him, and it was easy to kiss Markus, mouthing at closed lips until he gave up, rubbing his cheek against Markus’ shoulder.

“You like feeling small,” Markus finished for him, an unmistakable rasp of arousal in his voice, and Connor felt his hips jerk at the claim, heat searing through his belly.

Connor nodded, breathing heavily. Fuck, he had to piss. The pressure by his groin mixed together with the arousal and made it seem so much more intense, so that he couldn’t control the rutting motion of his hips, and he was whimpering, desperate and wanton and starting to sweat.

He paused just long enough to reach down, grab Markus’ dick, and slide it into his soaking cunt before his hips were moving again, bouncing urgently, and the increased pressure was such that he almost cried out. Tension wound through his whole body, making him go faster, and fuck but this had been exactly what he needed, and it felt so fucking _good._

Markus groaned loudly, bucked up into him discordantly and fingers tightening on Connor’s hips. His eyes were dark with want, his breath heavy and labored, and he moaned, “I’m glad you like that, sweetheart, I’m glad you learned you liked that, that’s so _fucking_ sexy.”

Connor moaned, hips rolling down hard onto Markus’ cock, grinding down against it. He wanted to kiss Markus again. He wondered if it would be possible to develop a resistance to the drug effect.

He reached down to rub over his t-dick, stroking around the sensitive nub, and gasped, breath hitching in rasps around a wave of feeling, rising up from his groin and threatening to swamp him. Sweat trickled down from his hairline, and he shivered with arousal, thighs shaking.

“Fuck, angel, I can’t hold it,” he managed, voice straining around a crack as he bounced in place, Markus’ hands on his hips, eyes fixed to the mismatched ones below him. And embarrassment mixed with eagerness with anticipation and pleasure, and he only held on for the time it took Markus to grin and drag him closer before he let go with a moan.

The pressure drained in a rush, hot liquid spattering between them in a mortifying stream while Connor rubbed himself against Markus, warm skin and tingling pleasure and heightened arousal, feeling impossibly hedonistic and indulgent. He wasn’t even quite done before he started coming, choking on moans as his hips jerked and stuttered forward, milking pleasure from Markus’ cock in his cunt and hands on his hips and voice in his ear, encouraging and groaning. He arched like he was being shocked, and it felt so _good_ and he couldn’t look away from Markus’ pretty eyes once.

He’d barely finished shaking, the towel below them soaked with drizzle, when Markus rolled them over again and started rutting into him, panting with obvious want. His cock was rock hard inside Connor, rubbing already hot nerves, and Connor arched into it helplessly.

“So fucking hot, handsome,” Markus purred, eyes hungry and half-lidded, “That’s a good boy, oh that’s a good _fucking_ boy, so good and relaxed for me, don’t you feel better? Don’t you feel so damn good?”

Connor wrapped his legs around Markus’, twitching with overstimulation, and moaned, welcoming Markus’ thrusts as if that was enough of an answer. He hoped it was.

He didn’t deserve Markus, but _fuck_ was he happy to have him.


	25. Age Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains no significant plot elements and can be safely skipped if it's something you're not comfortable with. It centers on therapeutic spanking and aftercare with some sex.

Connor woke up to the feeling of a hand clamped around his wrist, and he hadn’t even opened his eyes before he was reaching out to shove his attacker away, adrenaline surging through him like a grim shockwave.

He rolled out of bed, woke the rest of the way up, and stopped his fist half a foot from Markus’ throat. His eyes fixed to Markus’ wider ones.

Markus was on the ground. Connor registered that his shove had put Markus there, probably because of Markus’ bad knees.

Connor straightened up, pulling his arm back against his chest. Markus cleared his throat, stiff and uncharacteristically small where he sat on the ground, in a heap like he’d caught himself in that position.

“…You were crying,” Markus explained at last, voice threaded with remorse. Like he’d done something wrong. Like Connor wasn’t a _fuckup._

 _Sorry,_ Connor tried to make himself say. The word refused to come out of his mouth. He reached up to his face and his fingers came away wet.

He felt dizzy. He sat down, right there on the ground.

 _Sorry,_ he mouthed again. No sound came out.

Slowly, Connor deflated, buried his face in his hands, and rocked; after a moment he dropped his hand to his mouth and started chewing on it, not gently, but not hard enough to leave a mark either. He just, he needed- something. It had been an awful, horrible week already, and now-

Connor fucking hated winter. He whined in the back of his throat, choked and injured, and didn’t look up. An eternity seemed to pass.

Then Markus started to make soft, soothing sounds, just loud enough for Connor to halfheartedly focus on. He left it at that for a long time, and Connor’s rocking slowed, his hand slipping from his mouth. Eventually, Markus tugged it the rest of the way out and wrapped his own hand around it. Connor let him, but didn’t look up.

Markus squeezed. “It’s alright, baby boy. You’re alright. Do you want me to take care of you?”

It wasn’t anything they hadn’t discussed before. They had even talked about the idea of trying it in… well, in this sort of context. Inspired by the watersports, Connor understood.

(Markus, Connor had learned, liked to mix kink with comfort, sex with reassurance, but casual sex did not leave him with many opportunities to do so. So he did it with Connor.)

Connor hesitated for a split second, tilting his head up just enough to steal a glance at Markus’ soft, earnest expression… then nodded.

Markus smiled at him gently, appearing to regain confidence by the second, and took Connor’s hand before standing up. “Come on, baby boy. You seem a little overwrought, let’s calm you down before we do anything else, okay, sweetheart?”

Too exhausted to argue, Connor nodded, and then meekly followed Markus into the kitchen, where Markus sat him on the counter and had him watch while Markus… made a bowl of oatmeal. With fruit, and sugar.

Then he fed about half of it to Connor, spoonful by spoonful, encouraging Connor to curl into him and go quiet. It was, once again, a sort of intimacy Connor didn’t even begin to understand how to process, and at this point he didn’t even try. He just leaned on his angel and let the man do as he liked.

Markus did that until he was content, and then he led Connor back into the bedroom, had him sit on Markus’ lap on the edge of the bed, and asked gently, “Do you feel a little better now, baby?”

Connor swallowed. He did feel a little less overwhelmed with some food in him. “I guess.” Was that all Markus had wanted to do?

Markus stroked Connor’s arm, and he tried not to squirm, awkward and unsure about where he was perched. Awkward in general. “Do you want something else from me, Connor? Something to make you feel better?”

Connor glanced away. He didn’t want to get up or move away. He wanted-

It was absurd of him to hesitate. He and Markus had already _talked_ about this. And it was exactly what he wanted right now.

It just- it felt shameful, to actually ask.

“I want you to punish me,” Connor confessed at last, and at Markus’ half-hopeful look, he ducked his head and murmured, “…Daddy.”

“Good boy,” Markus praised softly, and Connor shivered guiltily. Markus let go of him and leaned back then, spreading his legs a little under Connor. “Lay over my lap, sweetheart. Let’s forgo counting, hm? I’ll spank you until you cry instead.”

Connor nodded without looking at him, and settled into place. It was difficult to relax for some reason. He worried- he thought-

Markus paused, and then a gentle hand landed on Connor’s head, cupping the back of it. “I’m not mad at you, Connor. Do you understand that?”

Connor relaxed a little, sighing. “…Yes.”

“Good,” Markus said quietly, and then, a second later, the first blow across Connor’s ass landed hard enough to make him jump. He winced, fists tightening in the covers, and Markus rubbed the curve of his thigh soothingly. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Connor echoed quietly, glancing up over his shoulder. A heavy sort of embarrassment still clenched in his stomach, and his heart beat rapidly with nervous anticipation.

How far he’d fallen, sprawling over someone’s lap begging to be spanked like a child. And threatening to dampen his boxers over it.

Markus’ hand struck Connor again, hard enough that Connor could almost feel the handprint forming even through his clothes. The cloth muffled the slaps, so they didn’t sting so much as ache, strike after strike leaving him feeling bruised and sore. He clenched his jaw and trembled, fists flexing and clenching, gasping softly around the pain.

After an eternity, Markus paused, leaving Connor shivering like a leaf, white-knuckled, clit stiff and sensitive in his damp boxers. And then he reached up to push his fingers through Connor’s hair.

“Let’s take a breath,” he coaxed, and then took in an exaggeratedly deep breath. A moment passed, then two, and then Connor belatedly took his cue and sucked in a quick breath of his own. “And let it out.”

Markus blew out his breath, loud enough for Connor to hear, and Connor mimicked him. He ran out of breath much faster than Markus did.

Markus coached Connor through half a dozen even breaths, until Connor stopped shaking so much, still petting his hair.

“That’s it, that’s perfect, good boy, baby,” Markus said at last, hand sliding down to rub circles in Connor’s back. “All I want is for you to feel better, sweetheart, that’s why I suggested we play. So you don’t have to bottle anything up for me, understand? Just let it out.”

Connor nodded without looking at Markus, breath still a little heavy, and loosened his grip on the covers. Markus patted him twice, right between the shoulderblades, and then once on his ass.

And then he started again.

Connor made it through four more strikes on his aching ass, each one sending a chain-reaction of sparks up his spine, before tears started spilling down his cheeks. Half a dozen more and he was keening softly, and then another three before he was kicking in protest.

That was the point at which Markus stopped, and Connor almost didn’t realize it until he registered the soothing coos Markus had started up in place of the blows, _good boy_ and _well done_ and _you’ve been so good, it’s all over now, you’re safe._

Connor leaned towards him, and that was all Markus needed before he was tugging Connor closer. He hadn’t gotten Connor halfway up before Connor was listing towards him, clinging on and panting, searching for security, pressing his cheek to Markus’ shoulder.

He felt wrecked. He didn’t understand why he felt so wrecked.

“Ow ow ow ow ow,” he mumbled under his breath, voice trembling even as he knew that he had objectively been through much, much worse. Tears were still crawling down his cheeks.

Markus didn’t seem surprised; his arms stayed around Connor, and he soothed, “I know, baby, I know, don’t worry, you did so well. Such a good boy, Connor.”

 _“Hurts,_ D-daddy,” Connor stammered at last, without bothering to hide the burn of mortification in his cheeks. He felt too wrung out for that.

Markus was so _warm,_ and Connor wondered distantly at the fact that he felt so safe in his angel’s arms, being rocked like a baby. He wondered if it meant something, that he felt like that. That Markus _liked_ that.

“I know,” Markus repeated patiently, and he kept petting Connor’s hair until Connor stopped shaking, half-dozing against Markus’ shoulder as the tension drained out of him. “That’s it, baby boy, everything’s okay. Do you feel better?” Connor nodded silently. “Do you want to stop for the night?”

Connor shook his head and swallowed.

“I want you to touch me… Daddy,” he managed after a beat, without looking directly at Markus’ face. He reached for one of his hands instead, taking it and intertwining their fingers. “Y-you made me feel warm. When you spanked me.”

Markus smiled against Connor’s hair. “Yes, you do like that, don’t you, baby?” he murmured. He slipped his hand into Connor’s pants then, cupping his sex with careful fingers. “Is this what you want?”

Connor bit his lip and nodded, then registered a problem and peeked up at Markus. “No more,” he warned, and Markus quickly started to pull his hand away. Connor reached down without thinking, stopping him, and swallowed and clarified, “I want this. I don’t want to…” He trailed off, struggling for words in his foggy, sensitized brain, and Markus finished,

“You don’t want to go further?”

Connor nodded, shamefaced even as he rubbed lightly against the palm of Markus’ hand, his own clamping it against him. “Sorry, Daddy.”

He didn’t know why saying that made him so much wetter than he already was. And he didn’t know why sex suddenly seemed far too overwhelmingly intimate when they’d fucked a hundred times already.

Markus laughed quietly, starting to rub more deliberately against Connor’s hot cunt, making him whine, high and thin. “That’s alright, baby boy, you’ve been so good for me tonight. Consider this a treat; you’ve earned it.”

And then he slid his fingers into Connor’s cunt, thumb pressing right above his clit, and Connor gasped, bucking weakly. His ass was still burning and aching, every slight movement aggravating the bruised nerves, and Markus’ fingers felt so big and hot, Markus’ chest so broad where he leaned against it.

He felt good. He felt _good._

 _“Daddy,”_ he moaned without thinking, burning hot, thighs clamping around Markus’ hand. He was panting again. “Harder, please, more.”

“Of course,” Markus cooed, sounding smug and soft and benevolent at once, and his thumb circled around Connor’s hardened t-dick, another finger pressing in to spread him open, and he pressed his fingers in just deep enough to push over Connor’s g-spot, making him gasp.

“Yes,” Connor whimpered, bucking hard and uncontrolled against Markus’ hand, his own still clamped over it as if to hold it there, the other clinging to Markus’ shoulder like a lifeline. “Yes, yes, please- _Daddy-”_

(He’d been uncertain about that one at first; now he found that every time it slipped out it made him hotter.)

“Such a good boy, baby,” Markus murmured heatedly, doing something with his fingers that made Connor cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he focused on the pleasure Markus rubbed into his body. “Does this feel good for you?” Connor nodded without hesitation, gasping, tears forgotten. “Do you want me to rub your little cock harder?”

“Please, Daddy,” Connor breathed, eyes shut tight, shaking in Markus’ grip.

Markus chuckled, and then his hand was rubbing deliberately over Connor’s swollen t-dick, once, twice, hard and firm, and then Connor was coming, jerking his hips only to try and get Markus’ fingers deeper. His own fingers squeezed into the meat of Markus’ shoulder, bruisingly tight if Markus had been human.

Connor came so hard his vision went white, and when he came to half a second later, he was slumped limply against Markus.

Markus was still holding him.

“Feel better?” Markus asked softly, tenderly, supporting Connor’s weight without the slightest sign of effort.

Connor took a deep, shuddering breath, and then nodded.

 _I love you,_ he thought blearily, but he couldn’t say that, so what came out was, “Thank you.”

“Thank _you,”_ Markus countered nonsensically, and then, “Let me lie you down, I’ll wipe you off and help you change, and then you can try and get back to sleep, okay, sweetheart?”

Connor took a deep, easy breath, opened his eyes again, and smiled dizzily at Markus.

“Okay,” he said softly.


	26. Swallowing

In the time it took them to reach Carl’s home, Connor reminded himself approximately seven times that he was meeting Markus’ family as a close friend, and for no other reason. The circumstances were different because of Markus’ particular needs, but they were still just _friends._

“If you want me to meet your brother, it’s only fair you meet my father,” Markus had told him with an easy smile, like it was really that simple. And Connor tried not to think too loudly about how much he _adored_ him.

Of course he agreed. He’d agree to almost anything, if Markus asked it of him.

Carl turned out to be a good-humored and shrewd man, eyes glittering with amusement as he cracked, “You tell me how much small talk the two of you got to before you went down to business, and that’s what we’ll aim for before I start asking about your intentions.”

“You know, I didn’t think I’d have to apologize for him this quickly, but here we are,” Markus said, not to Carl but to _Connor,_ embarrassed and with an unmistakable light of fondness in his eyes.

Connor smiled a little, reaching up to twist the cord of his discrete chew tag around one finger, and said to Carl, “I’m sorry, I’d assumed you didn’t want details.”

Markus chuckled, and Carl snorted loudly, jerking his head and spinning his chair to head towards the living room.

“Anxious around authority, indeed,” he just heard the man mumble, and after a moment of consideration, Connor decided to pretend not to have heard. It was true enough, after all, and had the ring of a warning Markus might have given the man before their arrival.

“Be _nice,”_ Markus said pointedly, but Carl just waved his hand dismissively.

“As nice as I ever am, Markus, you never worried this much with North. But fine. Connor, what are your feelings on kink presence at Pride?”

_“Carl!”_

Connor thought that it went relatively well, considering; Carl didn’t seem to _dislike_ him, at least, though he treated his presence with a sort of wry amusement, as if entertaining a fleeting fancy of his son’s. It was a fair enough assessment of Connor’s worth, if not of Markus’ character; that might account for Markus’ annoyance about the behavior.

Connor would have to make sure not to give the man cause to dislike him further, but otherwise, Carl’s disinterested approval was as much as he could hope for. He even allowed them to share Markus’ old room when they stayed the night.

Markus seemed to disagree.

“He’ll get used to you,” he reassured Connor like he was the frustrated one, running his fingers through Connor’s hair. “He just needs to get to know you a little better, he’ll understand then.”

Connor hummed, most of his attention taken up by the feeling of Markus’ fingers rubbing his head. “It’s fine, Markus. It’s obvious he cares for you a lot.”

“It might be nice if he looked after my _interests_ more,” Markus said wryly, and then sighed and elaborated, “That’s not fair. You’re right, Carl does mean well. He’s just not always _right.”_ He hesitated, then tilted Connor’s head up and added seriously, “You know I plan for you to stick around, don’t you?”

Connor smiled at him warmly, feeling something squeeze in his chest.

“I do now,” he mumbled, dipping his head to rub his cheek against Markus’ chest a little. “I’m glad.”

That didn’t seem to be enough, and the air between them held heavy for a moment, as if both of them were searching for something to add. Connor considered for a moment, and then let a mischievous smirk creep over his face and wriggled downward, letting the covers bunch over his, heading in a very specific direction.

Markus’ mouth spread into a grin as he caught on. “In my father’s house?” he scolded, but he also spread his legs a little, making room for Connor to settle between them.

Connor hesitated, glancing warily up at Markus for seriousness. When he found none, he allowed himself a small smile, tugging the covers over his head a little as if to hide. “I promise not to make a mess.”

He saw Markus swallow, eyes dark, and his cock twitched under Connor’s palm. He laughed raggedly. “You can do anything you want, handsome,” he murmured, looking down at Connor with half-lidded eyes that made Connor’s heart race.

Connor leaned down to rub his cheek over the growing bulge; the covers mostly hid him, but Markus could, of course, feel it. That was the idea, after all. “I want to taste you,” he said plainly, and didn’t tell him that it felt naughty here, that it felt forbidden and wonderful just _because_ they were in Markus’ father’s own home.

Something about Markus made it _safe_ to break rules – made it _fun_ instead of frightening, and Connor loved it.

“Oh, Connor, baby, you can do that anytime,” Markus murmured, heated enough to make Connor shiver. He reached down to help Connor pull his cock out, and Connor tongued the end gently, making Markus hiss.

“Promise?” Connor asked before he could stop himself, and decided not to wait for an answer, taking half of Markus’ cock in an increasingly practiced swallow, relishing in the familiar weight in his mouth.

Markus started to moan, choking it off abruptly, and managed a grin for Connor. “Promise,” he breathed, watching Connor with hazy eyes.

Connor hummed in pleasure, eyes drifting shut as he bobbed carefully on Markus’ swelling erection. One of his hands came up in front of him, thumb rubbing Markus’ balls through his soft pants, and he pulled off to take a breath and press a kiss to the underside of Markus’ cock.

Markus’ fingers tightened in Connor’s hair, and he swore softly. Connor smiled, pleased, and licked up the vein until he was at the head again, kissing it wetly.

“Good,” he said quietly, and swallowed Markus again, leaning forward until he felt swathed in the bedcovers and the clothes and Markus’ hand on his head, feeling cock hit the back of his throat and his thighs heat up with want. Salty precome filled his mouth, and Connor lapped at it eagerly, knowing it would get Markus to make- yes, _that sound-_

“Oh, good boy,” Markus rasped, grinding into Connor’s mouth. “Oh fuck, sweetheart, your _mouth-_ you’ve gotten so good at that, baby-”

Connor felt his face try to pull into a smile, and moaned around Markus’ cock instead, trying to take just a little more. He ended up making himself cough, and reluctantly pulled off and let the swollen tip rub against his cheek instead while he panted, overwarm and excited.

“I could drink you down forever, angel, if you kept making those sounds,” he heard himself murmur, hot under the covers and only mostly safe from Markus’ intense, steamy gaze. He wondered if Carl was close enough to hear. He didn’t think so, but the thought made him want to whine. His fingers stroked Markus’ cock absently, listening to Markus pant. “Do you think I could do that? I think I could. I want to swallow everything you spill on me.”

“Oh, hell,” Markus moaned, and he dragged Connor back down until his mouth was full of cock again, tongue rubbing hard against the throbbing vein. “Do it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Please, sweetheart.”

 _Please,_ Connor echoed in his mind, because it wasn’t often he heard that during sex, and it made him grind his hips against the mattress, searching for friction. One of his hands rubbed at the very base of Markus’ cock, the knuckles of the other grinding at his balls, and that left no hands for him to rub himself with, so his swollen clit just pulsed with untouched arousal, slick and impatient.

Markus’ precome, in this moment, tasted so fucking _good._

He pulled off for a moment, lapped at the tip for a few seconds like a kitten, and then swallowed him again, as deep as he could manage, until his nose rubbed against the cloth of Markus’ pajamas. His eyes pricked with tears, but he whined into it with pleasure of his own, throat stretching.

Markus groaned loudly, hand clamping down on the back of Connor’s neck as he arched violently.

“Oh, Connor-” Markus moaned, and then, without warning, he came down Connor’s throat, cock twitching and spurting with little jerks of his hips.

Connor swallowed all of the thick come down without hesitation, trying to rub his hips on the mattress, feeling Markus’ fist pull him closer and closer with each throb. The taste, the smell, the texture, none of it was enough to make Connor anything but hot with desire, and when he was finally done, he let Markus put his fingers into his mouth and check for anything left, awestruck and still hazy with pleasure.

There wasn’t any, of course. Connor didn’t deal in half-measures.

“Jesus Christ, Connor,” Markus rasped at last, and then he rolled them over and put his thigh between Connor’s, and Connor threw his head back and moaned shamelessly.

He wanted this to last forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is what I've been working on for the past month. I've been having a good time, but man, am I ever gonna shake this smut mood? XD All of the prompts have been set into one verse because I prefer to have a solid emotional context for my smut, and I don't trust myself to even attempt proper PWP without that.
> 
> I'm using the kink list [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466580)


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